


GG3: I Just Wanna Use Your Love Tonight

by CptnRuski



Series: Goalie Goals [3]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dates, Deception, Denial, Feelings, Happy Ending, Loneliness, M/M, Miscommunication, Pining, Sadness, Sex, Trips to the Dog Park, fake dates, lying, past emotional abuse, safe word usage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 16:18:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14476467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CptnRuski/pseuds/CptnRuski
Summary: Carey Price was not a Good Person.





	GG3: I Just Wanna Use Your Love Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry this took so long to post. I've had a rough year with writing and school and wanted this to be perfect before I posted it. I think this is finally in a place where I like it and I'm honestly really happy with how my writing skills have developed with this series. Special thanks to ArionRiot for encouraging me the whole way and to couchoffriendship for beta-ing most of this fic. There are some un-beta'd parts, so I apologize for any inconsistencies, but I have combed through this fic for months and I'm honestly really proud of it.  
> This is honestly an emotional rollercoaster and I apologize in advance for the feelings, but I promised y'all a happy ending, and there is in fact one of those.

 

 

Carey Price was not a good person. He knew it. It wasn’t hard to figure out. He'd known it from the moment this...  _ thing  _ had started. It also wasn't hard to realize exactly what he’d done and how absolutely fucked up it was. He’d known from the moment he found himself staring down Braden Holtby at a bar during the All-Star Weekend. It had been very spur of the moment, a move very uncharacteristic for Carey, but he’d done it anyways. Of course, the entire thing had been set off by a certain headstrong, and completely plastered Russian.

Alexander Ovechkin had cornered him that night after he’d gone about bothering most of the Eastern Conference players, reeking of alcohol and drunk out of his skull.

“He’s been watching, you know.” Ovechkin had slurred, his eyes glinting with mischief, “Holtby I mean, he  _ likes  _ watching you. Very cute, like puppy crush, he likes you lots, is adorable.”

Carey had pushed Ovechkin off of him at first, not really believing the older man’s words until the Russian rolled his eyes at him, “He talks like you are best thing on planet Pricey, remember Worlds?” 

When Ovechkin stopped, Carey had frozen in place. There was no way he  _ wouldn’t  _ remember. The memory of Braden singing Carey’s praises in nearly every interview he had done for the event, going so far as to say that even he knew that Carey should be the starting goaltender, that Carey deserved it more than he did, more than  _ anyone  _ did, immediately jumped into his mind. Braden had been very calm and very supportive in those chats he’d done, and during the World Cup he’d been very friendly to Carey, much more so than he had been to Crawford.  He’d assumed it was because he was the starter, that Braden just wanted to be on his good side to get the backup spot instead of third string. 

When Ovechkin left, he did something he’d never really expected himself to do that night. He hadn't had a good lay in ages, not since he and PK had stopped messing around, and as he looked across the room at Braden he took a deep breath and acted totally on impulse.

Carey had smiled as he walked up to the bar and put on his best seduction act, speaking in low tones, flashing smirks at the younger man, dragging his eyes up and down Braden’s body as he spoke, making sure to let Braden know that he was appreciating the slim cut of the suit the younger man had worn. He had watched Braden get flustered and jumpy under his gaze before turning and walking to an elevator.  He had made sure to sway his hips just enough to keep the younger Canadian’s attention and, of course, it had worked. 

Carey had stayed in the younger man’s bed that night, Braden had let him take control, and fuck had it been good… but when Braden had settled them down and cleaned him off, right after  _ finger fucking his come back into Carey _ , Carey had seen it. The darker haired goalie hadn’t been positive of his thoughts until they spoke softly to one another, each of them well sated from that night’s activities, but when Carey had met Braden’s eyes as the younger goaltender was slipping away to sleep, he knew the look in his eyes.  _ Love. _

The next morning he’d tried to avoid talking much, but failed. Braden had hopped in the shower, leaving Carey to his own devices and before the older Canadian knew what he was doing he’d put his number in Braden’s phone, sending himself the contact info to get in touch with him later. Braden had seemed fine with it, and soon it had been time to go and get ready for the games and events… but when he left, he gave Braden a kiss. He knew he shouldn’t have lead him on, he knew he shouldn't have told Braden to call him again, and so he’d avoided the auburn haired man for the rest of the All-Star Weekend.

He thought Braden had maybe forgotten about his number, that maybe he wouldn’t call him back. As a matter of fact he’d  _ hoped _ the younger man forgot, but, with his shitty luck, of course it’d happened. 

Braden had called him early in the morning, sounding anxious over the phone. There was no way Carey could ignore him then and, in what could definitely be classified as a dick move, had offered to take him out after the Capitals finished practice. Braden had agreed enthusiastically, leaving Carey with no other option but to get his shit together and take the man out.

That had been a disaster.

They had wound up at the Montreal Forum, not a place Carey would have picked for himself. However, he knew how much Braden loved Patrick Roy and the Canadiens as a kid, so he’d offered it as an option. As expected, Braden agreed. Enthusiastically. 

Again.

God was that boy excitable.

The first thing they’d done was go bowling; something that actually was fun for Carey. As they played Carey had done some hands on help with Braden, feeling his hot skin as he showed the auburn haired man some tips and tricks, while knowing exactly what he was doing to the younger man. Carey had won, obviously, and he had been pretty smug about it, knowing that now Braden was paying for dinner at the sports bar. That had been nice, if Carey was being honest with himself. Braden was easy to talk to, friendly, and he felt comfortable divulging some of the more personal aspects of his life. Of course, that’s when those  _ looks  _ started to come from Braden. Those relaxed browed, shining eyed, soft smiled looks that Carey immediately recognized as Braden trying to settle him down, to make him feel alright.  But Carey also knew those looks weren’t meant to be platonic. Braden had pulled out all the stops and was trying to get  _ closer  _ to Carey emotionally,  _ romantically _ .

That wasn’t what Carey was after.

Their conversation had been derailed when Carey began to pull awkward silences and the food arrived. It had been pretty good, he switched plates with Braden half way through, but had chided himself almost immediately afterwards for leading the younger man on again, fuck he needed to stop doing that. The rest of dinner had been uneventful, and soon Braden was practically dragging Carey to the halls with the Canadiens memorabilia, proceeding to both get way too excited about Patrick Roy and nearly running off ahead, calling Carey a moose in the process.

Carey had definitely not been happy being surrounded by all the Habs things within the niche, each picture and reminder of the 24 Stanley Cups his team had won sending sharp pains through him and he’d tried to walk away, only to have Braden at his heels. He didn’t know why he’d told Braden anything at all about how shitty it felt not to have brought the Cup back to Montreal, but soon he was wrapped up in a tight bear hug and Carey realized exactly then that Braden was a goner and that Carey needed to stop this. And yet.

He didn’t.

They’d chatted softly before making their way back to Carey’s car, bickering over ice cream flavors before deciding on a few, then had headed to Carey’s house outside of town. He’d flipped the tv on as they settled to eat the frozen treats, but he had kept eyeing up the carton in Braden’s hands. Before he realized what was happening, Braden was feeding him spoonfuls of the flavor he’d chosen and  _ fuck that was hot. _ Carey knew he shouldn’t have done what he’d proceeded to, that had been a  _ common  _ theme for the night.  But all the objections his mind had went out the window when he caught sight of the bulge in Braden’s pants and the flush high in his cheeks. 

He promised himself he wouldn’t, but he did.

What seemed like hours later, after giving and recieveing a blow job, getting blindfolded, edged to hell and back, fingered until he was practically non-verbal, and then fucked so hard into the nest of blankets, Carey had let Braden sleep while he fucking vomited in the bathroom.

_He_ _shouldn’t be doing this._

Carey knew what he was doing was wrong. He knew it when he saw Braden lying alone in the nest of blankets he’d built, with that happy smile  _ plastered _ on his face. Carey couldn't deny that in the pale moonlight Braden had looked  _ really _ good but… 

Carey shook himself out of his memories as his head began to pound with the sheer stress of thinking about the hole he'd dug himself into. He had better things to worry about at the moment than the younger man’s feelings. Namely the puck currently flying towards his glove hand. One quick flick of the wrist later and the puck was in his glove, safe, tight, a beautiful save. He had time to think later, but that time was not now.

 

They beat the Blackhawks in a shutout that night, Carey incredibly pleased with not only his, but the whole of the team’s performance. The offensive lines had been sharp, the defense had actually decided to show up, and he had saved over 30 shots. Yeah, that was a good feeling. Almost enough to make him  _ forget _ for the time being.

The guys were going to the bar that night, but as Carey was packing his things up, debating on whether to head out or not, PK approached him.

“Hey Cash Money,” PK grinned widely, “nice shutout tonight.”

“Couldn't have done it without my best D-Man.” Carey chuckled back as he stood up, bags over his shoulders, definitely leaning more towards just heading home.

“Heh, you know it!” PK chuckled, “So man, you wanna hit the town with the boys tonight? Or are you turning in?”

Carey rolled his eyes at him, “I'm headed home, I’m a bit tired from the game.”

“Mind if I tag along?” PK asked with a smirk

“I-” Carey stopped before leaning in, suddenly feeling dread pit in his stomach,“PK we aren't doing that anymo-”

“Dude!” PK let out a loud laugh, “Not where I was going with that!”

Carey sighed softly in relief, “Alright, sure, I'm sure I've got enough booze for the two of us.”

“Awesome.”

 

Not even an hour later PK and Carey were back at Carey’s house, on the couch drinking some shitty beer that had been left the last time the team had been at Carey’s for a party. Of course, it was also the first time that Carey had  _ sat  _ on that couch since Braden had been over.

“Dude, you seem stressed.” PK told him as the younger goalie had crossed Carey’s mind.

“Just… a lot going on you know? Playoff stress I guess.” Carey shrugged.

“You sure man?” PK asked, his brow furrowed slightly. “You've seemed out of it since the night we were supposed to take down the Caps.”

Carey froze and, of course, PK noticed.

“Carey?” He asked softly.

“I’m ok PK, really.” Carey assured him, knowing it was a flat out lie, but not wanting to own up on what he’d done, what he was  _ doing _ .

“This hasn’t got anything to do with us… stopping does it?” PK asked quietly, his eyes soft with sympathy as he placed a hand on Carey’s shoulder.

“I-” Carey stopped himself, this did have a lot to do with that. Carey swallowed roughly as he remembered the nights he and PK had spent together. They’d been good, hell they’d been  _ exactly _ what Carey had needed at the time, but eventually it wasn’t enough for either of them. They had decided that just being friends worked much better for them, an assumption that had been proven right by the fact that nothing had changed between them except when they went to each other’s houses they didn’t wind up in bed. 

“It might.” Carey admitted softly.

“Shit, Carey.” PK frowned, “If you needed something, I mean, I’m- I could-”

“No, no PK.” Carey shook his head, feeling his shoulders shake a bit, “I can’t do that with you anymore, it’s… I love you as a friend, you know?”

“Trust me, I understand that.” PK gave a warm smile back, “But seriously bro, if you need to at least vent, I’m here, you know that.”

“Yeah.” Carey nodded before taking a swig of his beer.

“So, no lying because I know you well enough to know that you  _ aren’t _ ok, spill.” PK told him seriously, his face hardening into the serious expression it took on when these kinds of topics came up for discussion. 

“I-I- ” Carey groaned, knowing he couldn't keep this from his, arguably, best friend, “I think I fucked up PK.”

“Shit, what?” PK asked his eyes widening in worry, “Carey, man, I'm sure you're good I mean-”

“I've been sleeping with Holtby.” Carey blurted out, getting straight to the point that had been eating at him for weeks now.

“... Dude.” PK whispered softly before a huge, shit-eating grin spread across his face, “ _ Duuude _ , that's a fucking catch right there. Fuck is he hung? Is he into kinky shit? Shit, like I've thought about him before but  _ damn _ Pricer, good for yo-”

“He's in love with me.” Carey cut him off, his throat tight as his heart rate picked up, “At least, I’m pretty sure he is.”

“What?” PK asked carefully, staring at Carey, his confusion evident in his eyes.

“I think Holtby's in  _ love _ with me.” Carey repeated slowly, his stomach churning, just as it had the night Braden had been in his home.

“That's… not what I was expecting.” PK admitted.

“Neither was I.” Carey groaned as he leaned back, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes, his thoughts beginning to race again.

“Wait.” PK stopped him, “So, he's in love with you?”

“Yeah.”

“But you're  _ not _ in love with him?”

“... Yeah.”

The room was filled with deafening silence. Suddenly, thoughts of the younger goaltender flooded his mind again. Every look, every word, every move the younger man had made was flashing through his mind at a rapid pace.

“Carey…” PK sighed softly, almost like he was afraid to speak, “You’re going to tell him right?”

Carey didn't respond, opting instead to avoid eye contact with PK completely.

“ _Carey.”_ PK choked, his eyes wide, “That’s not _fucking_ _cool_.”

“How do I fucking go about telling him I'm not into him that way?” Carey burst out, the stress finally catching up to him, “‘Hey sorry, but I've just been using you for sex’, can you see how bad that would go?!”

“Yeah, not as bad as him finding out on his own.” PK snarled back, his eyes narrowing in anger, “What the actual fuck Price?”

“I needed a quick fuck during the All-Star Weekend,” Carey explained, matching PK’s tone, “We fucked and he apparently thought too much into it because he called me when the Caps came to Montreal a few weeks ago.”

“What the fu-”

“We went to the Forum and shit, and came back here and I just-  _ Fuck.” _ Carey spat out, the revulsion at himself making him feel sick  _ again _ , “I figured a quick blow job wouldn’t hurt, but it got too far, fuck I didn’t want to stop-”

“ _ Carey Price you absolute fucking asshole. _ ” PK stopped him, the look on his face almost scaring Carey; he had never seen PK this angry in his life, “You are telling me, that even though you know, or even  _ think _ , he’s in love with you, you took  _ advantage _ of that, you took him on a  _ date _ , and you came back here and fucked him-”

“In my defense, I was  _ not _ the one doing the fucking-”

“Not the fucking point Price.” PK growled out, “You took advantage of him, that’s fucked up.”

Carey went quiet and nodded at PK’s words, but he didn’t reply as a wave of shame coursed through his body.

“Call him.” PK told him

“Wha-  _ No. _ ” Carey frowned, “He’s got a shit load of games this week, I’m not fucking that up for him.”

“ _ Carey. _ ”

“I swear to god I’ll tell him before we play in Washington.” Carey told him

“What if he finds out on his own _before_ _that_?” PK asked seriously.

“He won’t.” Carey grit out.

“Fine. But if you don’t tell him by then-” PK his voice low, dangerous.

“PK, no. I’ll do it, I don’t want you getting involved in this.”

“Whatever man,” PK grumbled as he picked up the remote and began flipping through channels while taking a swig of his beer, “Fuck, I need something stronger than this.”

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

Carey didn’t tell Braden. 

How could he? The younger goaltender was so busy and Carey, being himself, had gotten so caught up in the season, that he didn’t realize they were going to Washington again until PK had brought their agreement back up during a long roadie. As usual however, Carey was extremely reluctant to tell Braden. It didn’t help that the game was in the middle in their long road trip so everyone was a bit tired, however they were on a win streak and if they could pull this off, maybe it'd be easier for Carey to talk to Braden...

The game had gone catastrophically bad for the Habs. They’d lost, they’d lost in a spectacularly embarrassing fashion, and back in the locker room, tensions were running high. The boys were tired to the point where the Gallys were arguing in between uncharacteristic bouts of silence, Patches had already gotten his shit together and left, Radu wasn’t talking to anyone, and PK wasn't even dancing in the middle of the room like he usually did. Not only was the locker room situation concerning, Carey’s personal situation in Washington was beginning to flare up in the back of his mind. Though they’d seen each other on the ice, Carey hadn’t spoken with Braden for the entirety of the day, mostly due to exhaustion from the trip and preparation for the game. This lead to Carey decidedly not expecting his phone to go off when he was cramming the rest of his padding into bags. He quickly finished packing his gear up before turning his phone on to check the message that had come through.

_ ‘Do you guys leave tonight?’ - Braden _

Carey stared down at his phone, knowing he probably should answer, he didn't particularly want to upset Braden.

_ ‘No, we’re here for an extra day before we fly down to Tampa’  _ Carey sent back, regretting having told him.

_ ‘Do you want to come over to my place?’  _ Braden’s reply was near immediate and Carey felt discomfort settle in his stomach. He needed to talk to Braden about this, it really wasn’t going well and judging from the look PK was giving him, he needed to get this over with as soon as humanly possible.

_ ‘Sure’  _ Carey really regretted sending his confirmation, but he knew he  _ needed _ to get this over with.

‘ _ I left a few minutes ago, I’ll send you an uber?’  _

_ ‘OK’ _

Which was how Carey found himself in the back of some guy’s car, contemplating what to even say to Braden when they arrived at his house. He had talked to PK before he left, letting him know that he was going to go speak with Braden, a move that drew a serious nod from PK who had wished him good luck. The half hour ride was a long time, but it didn’t feel like enough for Carey to think about what he was actually going to say to Braden. Maybe he should get him a few beers first? Get him tipsy to talk with? Or should he just… go for it? As the ride dragged on and Carey came to a blank for what to say to Braden he started fidgeting with his phone. Braden wasn’t going to be happy, that much was evident and-

*Ding*

Carey looked down at his phone where another message from Braden had popped up.

_ ‘Door is unlocked, dealing with a few things before you get here, if I’m not down, lock it behind you.’ _

Carey frowned at the message, but went with it nonetheless.

They pulled up at the address Braden had supplied a few minutes later. Carey thanked the driver and got out, surveying the area, noting it looked like a well-off, friendly neighborhood. The house was fairly large for one person, but as Carey walked up to the door, he guessed it was better for having the team come to visit. 

Carey knocked once before walking through the entrance way which was, as promised, unlocked. Quickly, he locked the door behind him, looking around the expanse of the house. Braden was nowhere to be seen in front of him in the wide open kitchen-living room space, nor was he on the first floor, Carey noted as he walked around the area.

“Braden?” He called, not enjoying the echo his voice had in the house. It was too empty.

“Upstairs!” Was the muffled reply.

Carey looked around one last time before slowly ascending the stairs, feeling his heart catch in his throat as he continued to debate with himself on how to break this to Braden. He walked around trying to figure out where Braden was while continuing to contemplate how to tell the younger goaltender that they needed to stop this, that it wasn’t a good idea any more. Just as he was getting lost in his thoughts, Carey noticed the door to what he  _ assumed _ was the master bedroom was slightly ajar. 

“Braden-” Carey began as he walked through the door before stopping in his tracks completely, “ _ Jesus fucking Christ.” _

Braden was lying on the bed propped up against the headboard, his hands above his head in a set of handcuffs that had been woven through a slot in the headboard, putting his upper body on a long, stretched out display. Carey let out a shaky breath as his eyes wandered down Braden’s arms, noting how much  _ larger  _ they were than his own. It was obvious Braden showing the hard work he’d been putting in that season. His torso was bare as well; the strong, well defined muscles displayed proudly under the soft, fine dusting of hair across his chest, hair which traveled down very lightly over his softer, but still strong looking abs, thickening slightly under his navel before disappearing into the biggest surprise of the night. Carey felt his mouth go dry as his eyes became stuck to Braden’s legs; spread widely, and clothed in a set of deep red thigh high stockings with white and blue stars lined up the sides. The stockings clung tightly to the expanse of Braden’s long legs, from his very nice, shapely calves, to his powerful thighs. Just from staring, Carey could feel his blood begin to rush south. He dragged his gaze up further to see bright white garters attaching the red thigh highs to a set of blue panties which left absolutely nothing to the imagination as his eyes locked on the wet spot already formed by Braden’s hard, leaking cock.

“ _ Hey Carey _ ,” Braden purred from his perch on his bed, spreading his legs further and Carey nearly dropped to his knees as he looked up. Braden’s gaze was locked on his as Carey wobbled slightly; his hair was shorter than the last time Carey had seen him, just enough to still pull at and play with, but what shocked him the most, even more than Braden’s little outfit of choice and the handcuffs binding him to the headboard, was the fact that Braden was smiling at him, and his face was  _ bare. _

“You  _ shaved? _ ” Carey asked, his voice catching slightly as he made his way towards the bed.

“Mmhmm, I figured you'd like that.” Braden told him softly, his expression verging on coy, “Payback for last time… and I want to feel that beard of yours on my face.”

“ _ Fuck _ .” Carey choked, as he came to the edge of the bed. This wasn't what Carey was here for but  _ goddamn _ did Braden look ready to be  _ fucked into the mattress.  _

“You played well tonight.” Braden continued with a smirk, “But I played  _ better.” _

“My team didn't show up,” Carey growled as he clamoured up onto the bed, settling himself between Braden’s legs and running his hands up the expanse of the firm muscle there, “All this for me?”

“Don't have another game for three days,” Braden nodded, “I figured I'd do something special for you.”

Carey should have gotten out of there, or even told him before, the moment those words left Braden’s lips, but… Carey couldn't move, his eyes focused on Braden’s erection, pushing up against the fabric of the little blue panties he wore,

“You dressed up so nicely for me.” Carey grinned as he locked eyes with Braden, reaching out to stroke a hand against the younger man’s cheek, not used to the smooth skin against his hand, “Braden… fuck you actually _look_ like you’re younger than me.”

“Hmm, do you like it?” Braden asked softly, nuzzling into Carey’s hand, “I did it specially for you.”

“Can’t say I don’t,” Carey chuckled, “But do I like that beard of yours.”

Braden frowned slightly at his words, almost as if he was about to say something, before grinning, “How’d that beard burn from last time treat you?” 

“Definitely felt it for days,” Carey smirked back, looking up at Braden’s hands, “Your arms look good like that.”

“You said you wanted to tie me up back at the All-Star Weekend.” Braden’s eyes flashed mischievously as he spoke.

Carey’s eyes widened as he realized he  _ had _ said that to Braden, and was shocked that the younger Canadian remembered the little detail from that night.

“So,” Braden stared up at him expectantly, “You gonna fuck me Carey?”

“You want that?” Carey asked, voice low as the haze of arousal settled over him.

“ _ Yes. _ ” Braden hissed as Carey rubbed a hand softly against the thin material of the panties Braden had on.

“Then hell yeah I am.” Carey groaned, completely disregarding the reason he was there, PK was going to kill him, but Braden was so fucking  _ willing _ and, fuck, his  _ legs- _

“Safe word is Five Hole again.” Braden told him with a smirk, pulling Carey out of his head as the lighter haired man ran a stocking clad calf against Carey’s thigh, “Handcuff keys are on the bedside table.”

“Great,” Carey growled out before pressing his lips to Braden’s in a searing kiss.

Carey felt Braden practically melt under him the second he slipped his tongue through the younger goaltender’s lips, soft whines escaping the younger man as Carey let his hands rub up over Braden’s chest, toying at his nipples. Carey hummed into the kiss, pleased with Braden’s reactions as he rolled their tongues together, noting that the younger goalie felt almost different. He was totally pliant beneath Carey, an unusual occurrence since Braden was the one usually taking charge in these particular situations, but then again, Carey hadn’t been the one on top before. 

Slowly, Carey trailed a hand down Braden’s torso with a light touch, just barely grazing over the skin before his hand found a way to Braden’s swollen, clothed cock. Braden gave a shuddering moan into Carey’s mouth, his body seeming to relax further with each soft stroke Carey gave, the sounds he was making fueling Carey’s desire even further.

“I like those little sounds you make Braden,” Carey breathed against Braden’s lips as he pulled back slightly, “How bad do you want to be fucked?”

“ _ So bad, _ ” Braden moaned, “Fuck, Carey, c- can I blow you?”

“Shit, you want me to fuck your face?” Carey groaned, low and so fucking ready to wreck Braden’s mouth.

Braden grinned in response and soon Carey was yanking his shirt off and ridding himself of his pants, much to the delight of the man beneath him as evidenced by the happy sounding sigh he let out. As his pants were discarded, Carey gave himself a firm pump with his hand before kneeling in front of Braden, his cock at the perfect height for the younger man to get his mouth around. Braden moaned quietly before leaning forward and taking the head of Carey’s cock into his mouth, tonguing slightly at the slit. Carey shuddered and groaned as the warm, wet feeling of Braden’s mouth surrounded him.

“ _ Fuck, _ ” Carey moaned, reaching up to grip the headboard as an anchor, “Fuck, your mouth-  _ Christ- _ ” Carey looked down to see Braden staring up at him, hazel eyes hooded and clouded with lust, his mouth stretched wide over his cock, “That- That’s so good, l-look so good with your mouth on me.”

Braden moaned and his eyes slipped closed as he focused on bobbing his head up and down Carey’s length, the combined feeling of the vibrations and movement drawing a high whine out of Carey’s throat.

“Fuck, can I- shit- can I fuck your mouth?” Carey choked out as Braden gave extra attention to the head of his cock, pressing the flat of his tongue against it and rubbing at his slit again. Braden moaned in response but Carey shook his head,

“Yes or no, can’t do anything you don’t want me to,” he told Braden seriously, not wanting to hurt the younger man.

“Yes,” Braden said sharply as he pulled off for a split second, immediately wrapping his lips back around the older goaltender. Carey could  _ feel _ Braden smile around him as the younger man let out another moan and Carey let a shaky breath escape him as Braden let his mouth relax around him.

“Fuck yes,” Carey hissed as he tightened his grip on the headboard before giving a shallow thrust into Braden’s mouth. 

It didn’t take long for Carey to pick up the pace, thrusting in and out of Braden’s warm mouth quickly, the younger man whimpering and moaning around him all the while.

“Fuck, Braden, you like this? You like me using your mouth like this? Fucking wrecking your slutty mouth?” Carey moaned as he felt his balls start to draw up against him, fuck he was close. Braden moaned around Carey, a high pitched noise that nearly drove Carey to go faster, only just able to stop himself from doing so. 

“O-oh fuck,” Carey whined, throwing his head back as he reached for one of Braden’s hands with his own, twining their fingers together before he knew what he was doing, “So good, so good- oh god, Braden, I'm close- Fuck can I come on your face? Would you like that?” 

Carey looked down to see Braden’s eyes shoot open, wide and desperate. Quickly, Carey pulled himself out of Braden’s mouth, dropping the hand from the headboard to grip his cock, stroking it slowly in case Braden didn't want what he'd suggested.

“O-oh Carey,” Braden breathed out as Carey pulled off, his voice hitching on his name, “Carey,  _ please. _ ” The younger man’s voice was rough and wrecked sounding and  _ fuck _ if that wasn't the hottest thing Carey had heard in a long time. Carey sped up his hand, feeling himself get closer and closer. He looked down to see Braden cheeks flushed, eyes closed, and mouth agape and red from Carey’s cock and he felt his breath catch.

“Oh fuck,  _ fuck Braden! _ ” Carey moaned as he felt his orgasm wash over him, his cock pulsing, shooting his come all over Braden’s face as he pumped himself through it, wringing out every last drop and watching it paint Braden’s cheeks and chest. The younger goaltender’s eyes were still closed and he let out a soft moan as Carey came down from his high, the older of the pair panting as he stared at Braden's face. 

“Oh  _ baby _ ,” Carey groaned softly as he settled himself in Braden’s lap, staring at his come splattered all over Braden’s cheeks.

Braden opened his eyes slowly to look at him, the hazel orbs wide as he panted softly. Braden struggled against his restraints for a moment then gave a soft sigh as Carey brushed up against his erection.

“So messy,” Carey smirked as he leaned forward, pressing his lips to Braden’s cheek in an open mouthed kiss, lapping at some of the come there, “You want me to clean you up Braden?”

Braden gave a soft moan at the suggestion and nodded. Carey grinned in response before swiping a hand through the fluid on Braden's cheeks. Carey smirked as he brought his come covered finger to Braden’s mouth,

“Open,” Carey told him, a sick sense of satisfaction coming over him as Braden obediently did as directed, the younger man taking the fingers into his mouth with no qualms or hesitation. Braden tongued softly at his fingers, swirling the slick appendage around Carey’s digits and the older of the two found himself hoping that he'd be able to get himself back up and in action again soon. After a minute Carey pulled his fingers out and swept up more come with his fingers, feeding it to Braden, the younger man moaning and enthusiastically swirling Carey’s fingers in his mouth, repeating the process until the younger goaltender was no longer covered in the substance.

“How're you doing?” Carey asked softly, using his other hand to run up the side of Braden’s arm.

“Good,” Braden breathed, “Really good, Carey- Carey please I’m so hard.”

“What do you want me to do about that Braden?” Carey asked, bringing his lips to Braden’s ear and worrying it between his teeth. 

“O-oh,” Braden moaned, his hips arching up at the action, “Touch me, please Carey, I want you to touch me  _ so bad. _ ”

“Is that right?” Carey quipped leaning down and nipping at Braden’s neck, smirking with each tiny whine that left the younger goalie’s throat.

“Stop teasing me.” Braden whimpered as he tried to buck his hips up into Carey, the older man holding him down easily.

“But you're so fun to tease,” Carey grinned. “Remember when you held me down and made me wait for it, baby?”

Braden gave a loud whine.

“Here's what I'm going to do,” Carey continued, his voice low and breathy in Braden’s ear. “You’re going to stay tied up here and I'm going to strip you. I'm going to mark up your legs as I pull those fucking stockings down your thighs, and fuck, I'm going to burn the shit out of your thighs. And then, when the socks are off, I'm going to drag those panties down your legs,” Carey began to grind down in Braden’s lap as he spoke, “and I'm going to do it slowly, so slowly and I'm not gonna touch your hard, leaking cock- I mean look Braden, you've ruined those panties, so wet and messy for me.  _ Fuck  _ are you always like this after shutouts Braden? Do you get so excited, so hard when it happens? Do you touch yourself after games like this? Do you think of me taking you apart, treating you so well for _ doing _ so well?”

Braden threw back his head and moaned at Carey’s words and suddenly Carey felt it, in the back of his mind. This was a bad fucking idea, but  _ fuck _ did Carey want to wreck Braden. 

Carey was yanked out of his thoughts by a loud whine from Braden,

“Y-you gonna wreck me real good, Carey?”

_ Fuck. _

“Oh Braden, you have no idea.” Carey growled before stopping his hips and moving down Braden’s body, bringing his face close to the younger man’s cock, breathing over the fabric just enough to draw another whine out of the younger man’s throat.

Carey chuckled to himself as he snapped the garter on Braden’s thigh, loving the gasp the younger man gave as he went about unhooking the lingerie pieces. When the red stocking was free, Carey straddled Braden’s leg and brought his lips to the top of the garment, kissing the soft skin there. Carey hummed as he lazily began to move the stocking down Braden’s leg, working his lips over each bit of skin as it was exposed.

“Carey, Carey,” Braden whined as Carey’s beard scratched against his thighs, “O-oh Carey, fuck, s-so good.”

Carey just gave a pleased hum as he continued, bringing the stocking over Braden’s knee and in turn, sucking at every bit of skin he could get to.

Carey continued the slow torture of Braden’s leg for a while, pulling off one red stocking before repeating the process on Braden’s other leg, the younger goaltender getting louder and louder as each second passed.

“Who sounds like a whore now?” Carey asked as he brought his lips back up to Braden’s inner thigh, making sure to rub his beard against the skin as every time he did. Carey sunk his teeth into the sensitive skin of Braden’s thigh and the younger man whined. The noise sent jolts of arousal through his body. 

Soon Carey’s hands were under the waistband of the little panties and carefully began to pull them down, making sure to put as little friction on Braden’s cock as possible. Braden whined in disappointment, but remained still as Carey revealed the younger man’s very hard, heavily leaking cock. Carey smirked and made eye contact with Braden as he pulled the silky fabric off the younger man’s legs. Braden’s hazel eyes were wide and his face had turned the same color red as the jersey he’d been wearing earlier that night.

“Excited much?” Carey snickered as Braden began to shift his hips around.

“Y-yeah.” Braden stammered, biting his lip slightly.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, ok? That sound fun?” Carey smiled.

Braden nodded and Carey noted his breathing was quickening, fuck he looked hot.

Finally, Carey pulled the panties fully off of Braden and sat up to admire the view of Braden’s entire body, stretched out and ready for him. The little voice in the back of his mind tried telling him that he should stop again, that this wasn't fair to Braden, but it also wouldn't be fair if Carey left him high and dry, desperate to come, right? That seemed like a good rationalization, he'd get Braden there, make him feel so good, and later on he'd tell him.

“Where do you keep the lube Braden?” Carey asked as he ran a single finger up the underside of Braden’s cock.

“Top drawer,” Braden breathed out, his voice shaking slightly; God was this what Carey sounded like when Braden fucked him?

Carey quickly grabbed the lube from the drawer then settled himself back between Braden’s legs, spreading the younger goalie’s thighs as Carey stared down at his cock.

“You look good like this Braden,” Carey murmured as he pushed himself slowly up into Braden’s space, just brushing his lips against the younger goaltender’s.

“... Kiss me?” Braden asked quietly as Carey brought his hands up to the younger man’s face. Carey hesitated, before pressing his lips that extra distance, feeling Braden sigh contently against his lips as they connected. 

“God,” Carey moaned softly, pulling back so that he could speak, “I can't wait to finger you open, I'm gonna get you so wet for me baby, I'm gonna stretch you out and play with you until you're begging for me to fuck you, gonna make you feel so good.”

Braden whimpered under him as Carey uncapped the bottle of lube and poured some over his fingers.

“I know we haven't really used them before,” Carey started softly, “but do you want me to use a condom?”

Braden shook his head as Carey hitched one of Braden’s legs over his shoulder, the auburn haired man looking a little tense. 

“Mm, are you ready?” Carey asked softly.

“I-I-” Braden stuttered softly, “Yeah.”

Carey looked up, not used to the stuttering and nervousness that came from Braden, but, he  _ said _ he was alright…

“When was the last time you were stretched?” Carey asked quietly as he gently massaged Braden’s thigh.

“... It's been a while,” Braden frowned.

“Ok,” Carey nodded before taking a deep breath, “Just breathe and relax alright? I'm gonna take good care of you.”

Braden nodded as he let Carey maneuver him into a more comfortable position and gently, Carey brought a lube slicked finger to Braden’s ass. 

“Fuck, one of these days I'm gonna eat you out,” Carey moaned as he circled the rim of Braden’s hole, “Would you like that baby? My tongue pushing into you, making you all wet and sloppy?”

Braden gave another whine and carefully Carey pushed a finger in, fuck Braden was tight, wait... no that wasn't right. Carey frowned as he gently gave a few thrusts with his finger, Braden was tensing up, and-

“F-Fuck, I c- no- C-Carey stop, please-  _ Five hole _ , stop-” Braden blubbered out, his eyes shutting tightly and his teeth clenched together as his body trembled.

“What-” Carey stared wide eyed at Braden as he pulled his finger out, “Braden, what- are you alright?”

Braden didn't look at him, but shook his head. Carey grabbed the keys to the handcuffs, undoing them as fast as possible. He let Braden slump into him the moment he was freed from the headboard. 

“Braden? Braden?” Carey asked, panic welling up in him, what did he do wrong? Fuck he never should've done this, this was a mistake, he should've just  _ told  _ Braden and  _ left- _

Braden was crying. 

Oh  _ fuck _ he was  _ crying _ .

Carey froze up as he felt Braden shudder violently against him and heard him take gasping breaths, fuck what was wrong?

Carey carefully wrapped his arms around Braden, racking his mind to try and figure out what had happened while the younger man held onto him tightly, as if somehow Carey was the only thing keeping him grounded, keeping him from hurting or… oh god, had someone hurt him?

“I-I’m sorry-” Braden choked out, fuck he was definitely crying even worse than Carey thought, his voice was breaking, and his grip around Carey had tightened, “I’m s-sorry, I thought- I thought-”

“Braden, Braden it's alright,” Carey shushed him, trying to understand what was happening, “Braden, are you alright? Braden?”

“I-I’m sorry-” Braden shook his head, pressing his face into Carey’s neck as he cried, his arms trembling around Carey. Carey frowned as he looked down at Braden, wishing he knew what was happening exactly so that he could help.

“I- I thought-” Braden sniffled, “I  _ thought _ I could do it- I-I  _ wanted _ to b-but-”

“It's ok Braden, breathe please ok?” Carey quieted him, running his hand through Braden’s hair in what he hoped was a comforting manner. “You're ok, you're ok.”

Braden let out a shaky sigh but nodded into his neck, staying there as hot tears found their way onto Carey’s skin. Slowly, Carey shifted the two of them into a more comfortable position, rolling them over and pulling Braden up and into his lap, rearranging them so that Carey could lean on the headboard to support the both of them instead.

“Braden?” Carey asked softly as Braden’s choked out sobs began to ebb off, “You coming back?”

Braden nodded slowly, but stayed in the crook of Carey’s neck, sniffling softly still. Gently, Carey ran his hand up and down Braden’s back, trying to convey the thought that he was here and that Braden shouldn’t be afraid.

Oh.

Well.

Carey frowned as he looked at Braden. He needed to tell him. If this is how this was going to go, then Carey needed to tell him. He couldn't be there for Braden like this, this was almost  _ too much _ for Carey, but Braden looked so distraught, so  _ scared _ . Taking a deep breath Carey decided that when Braden had calmed down, he'd gently break it to him. However, just as he was about to check on Braden again, the younger man clutched at him tighter than before.

“I’m sorry,” Braden told him, his voice was ragged and sore.

“Braden,” Carey stopped him, “I- you're fine, I don't mind ok?”

“I thought I could do that.” Braden continued, his voice quiet, “I wanted to, for  _ you. _ ”

_ Oh boy. _

“It's alright Braden.” Carey reassured him, “But I need you to explain what just happened so that I don't do that again.”

Braden went silent, the younger man freezing slightly before pulling away. Carey watched as Braden rubbed at his eyes before looking up at him sadly. Oh shit, wow, his eyes were… stunning- no, Carey mentally chided himself, he was telling Braden dammit and-

“I-” Braden frowned as he tried to speak, “I haven't had… the best experiences with… with that.”

Carey surveyed Braden carefully, he was slumped over and his shoulders were drawn up defensively, he looked miserable and frightened.

“What do you mean?” Carey asked softly, placing a hand on Braden’s shoulders.

“I mean, that- that,” Braden gave a rough swallow, “Well… b-before, I was with another guy. It was a while back, way back before I got called up but… he…” 

“Braden?”

“It was nice, like, I was on top most of the time but… when he made me… you know…” Braden trailed off slowly his voice falling to a whisper, “It didn't… it didn’t  _ feel _ good.”

“It didn-” Carey stared wide eyed at Braden, “ _ Oh.” _

Braden looked down and shook his head, “Sorry, I didn't- I didn't want to unload all that- uh…” 

“No, no it's ok.” Carey reassured him, softening his gaze as he saw Braden shudder slightly, “Who were you with? Who did this to you?”

“I… I don't want to talk about it.” Braden shook his head. 

Carey nodded in response, “Alright, is there anything you need me to do or-”

“Make me forget,” Braden stared at him with wide, pleading eyes, pressing his half hard cock into Carey. “Make me forget about  _ him. _ ”

_ Oh fuck. _

“Get back under me and relax, I'm gonna ride you.” Carey breathed, his own voice shaking as the two of them maneuvered so that Braden was pressed against the headboard and beneath Carey again.

“You wanna stretch me, or do you wanna watch?” Carey sighed as he rocked into Braden’s hips, the younger man’s soft plea for Carey to make him forget about the dick who had fucked up the younger man fueling his arousal again, making Carey focus more on taking away whatever pain that asshole had brought to Brad-

Oh.

He was an asshole like that too.

Shit.

No, fuck, he was getting laid right now, the discussion could come later.

“O-oh,” Braden moaned softly as Carey kept rocking his hips into the younger man, “I-I-”

“Just relax,” Carey shook his head. “I’ll take care of you tonight.”

Braden nodded and whimpered at his words, and Carey gave a huff as he searched for the bottle of lube from earlier. It was easy to find, and soon Carey was slicking his fingers up while Braden moved his hands and was gently coaxing Carey to a full erection. 

“Fuck,” Carey groaned as he pulled back from Braden, spreading his legs as he knelt up, then dropped one hand behind him to circle at his opening, “Just relax Braden ok?”

It didn’t take long for Carey to work himself open, thanking whatever deity was out there that he’d preemptively cleaned himself up after the game, but still wincing slightly at the discomfort that always came with this part. As he continued, his fingers started to feel nice in him, and so did Braden’s eyes on him, but soon it wasn’t enough and Carey moaned as he drew them out of his hole.

“You ready?” Carey asked as he teased the head of Braden’s cock against him.

“Please.” Braden whispered and, slowly, Carey sunk down onto the younger goaltender.

Carey moaned as he gave a gentle thrust with his hips, Braden’s cock filling him out perfectly.

“ _ Carey, _ ” Braden whimpered softly below him, his eyes wide and his face painted scarlet with blush.   
“Yeah baby?” Carey asked softly as he started to grind down onto Braden at a slow pace, not wanting to take it too fast for the younger man, “How’s that feel?”

“R- really good.” Braden gasped as Carey sped up just slightly.

Carey gave a low groan as he adjusted himself, then gasped as Braden’s cock brushed up against his prostate, fuck it felt good. Carey kept up the slow pace carefully pushing himself up, then sliding back down onto Braden again. The drag of the younger goalie’s cock in him drew a long, breathy moan from his throat. Carey continued to rock up and down, continuing to drawing low moans from himself and Braden as he kept up his pace. It took some time, but soon Braden was thrusting up into him, moans and whines high in his throat as they moved in tandem, Braden finally seeming to lose himself in the act. Carey opened his eyes to see Braden still watching him through softened eyes as he felt the younger man’s hands latch on to his hips. Suddenly Carey felt the need to press closer to Braden and before he could stop himself, he wrapped his arms around Braden’s neck and pressed their foreheads together, rocking down harder into the younger man. Braden gasped and cried out Carey’s name over and over again as Carey worked himself up and down over Braden’s hard cock. The younger man bucked his hips up harder and harder with each thrust, it was slowly becoming too much for Carey, he couldn’t hold on for much longer. His orgasm came much too soon, washing over him in waves of pleasure and fuzzing his brain out as he came all over Braden’s stomach while Braden gave a few more thrusts before warmth pooled in Carey’s mid section. Carey gasped as he pulled off of Braden, then whimpered as he felt the younger man’s come spill out of him.

Carey remained propped up against Braden’s forehead, breathing heavily as he recovered from his almost gentle, yet satisfying orgasm. Braden’s hands were still holding his hips tightly again as if Carey were the only thing keeping him from harm, as if Carey was grounding him to safety. Slowly, Carey brought his lips to Braden's and laid a chaste kiss on them before rolling off of the younger man, grunting as he hit the bed before resuming his attempt at catching his breath.

After a while, Carey moved to get up and get something to clean himself on, but as he tried to move Braden’s arms wrapped around him and suddenly Carey found himself on his side with Braden’s head tucked beneath his chin. The younger man didn’t speak, but Carey could see that Braden was happy, content even. 

“Braden,” Carey mumbled, “we need to clean up-”

“Just… just a few more minutes.” Braden sighed into him drowsily.

Carey shook his head, “You’re gonna fall asleep and dried jizz is a bitch to get off.” 

Braden groaned before letting Carey wriggle out of his arms and the older man went to grab towels from the closet in the ensuite. Wetting both towels, Carey quickly walked back out and situated himself on the bed, cleaning himself off before wiping Braden down. Carey blushed slightly as he looked down at the mess he’d made on the younger man, but continued to work it off the best he could, noting that they’d need showers in the-

Oh fuck  _ morning _ .

“Carey?” Braden grabbed his wrist, his wide hazel eyes staring up at Carey, pleading silently with him.

“Yeah?” Carey breathed back, unable to take his eyes off Braden’s. That look in Braden’s eyes... oh god the boy was head over heels for him.

“Are you gonna spend the night?” Braden asked softly, his grip on Carey’s wrist not too tight, but definitely conveying the fact that Braden… Braden really needed him tonight.

“... Y-yeah,” Carey agreed, nodding as he settled into the bed beside Braden. Immediately the younger man pressed up against him, tucking his head beneath Carey’s chin and wrapping an arm around him. Carey felt a wave of nausea wash over him as Braden’s breathing slowly evened out beside him, there had been no goodnight, no speaking, nothing but Braden dozing off in Carey’s arms without a problem.

That was all it took for Carey to realize that this was going to go horribly wrong.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________ 

Carey was still awake when the moon was high in the sky. Braden had fallen asleep ages ago, but Carey hadn’t even been able to shut his eyes without being overwhelmed by self loathing. The sight of Braden, curled up into him and sleeping soundly, peacefully, certainly wasn’t helping either. The younger man looked so calm and innocent as he slept, completely unaware of what Carey was doing within their… situation. However, Carey also felt something else. 

Braden’s eyes when he had broke down and begged Carey to stop haunted his mind. The single look of absolute terror in Braden’s wide hazel eyes had shocked Carey to his core, and when Braden explained what had happened… Carey shuddered as he thought about it. The asshole who’d done this to Braden had hurt him deeply and Carey felt his stomach twist as Braden’s words, “Make me forget about  _ him _ ” echoed, over and over again in his mind. 

Carey knew he was no better than the bastard who’d done this to Braden, but how could he even tell the younger goaltender what he’d  _ done _ after that conversation? He couldn’t break the younger Canadian’s heart any further than it had, that would be  _ cruel _ . Carey knew he’d be in deep shit with PK, but Carey also didn’t need to be the reason why Braden went off his rails right before playoffs, now  _ that _ would be fucked up. However, Carey missing all the red flags from Braden had also been pretty fucked up. 

Braden had never been uncomfortable with what had happened between them before, but he should’ve realized that Braden shaving had been strange, he knew that Braden  _ hated  _ being clean shaven, he’d said so in multiple interviews that Carey had seen prior to the World Cup they’d played together. He also should have noticed Braden’s unnaturally shaky voice and how tense he was and-

Carey stopped, the guilt washing over him and he tried to force those thoughts back down. He’d fucked up with Braden tonight and it just wasn’t fair to the younger man. What he was  _ doing  _ to Braden was not in any way, shape, or form alright, and fuck he needed to stop this.

However, as Carey looked down at the sleeping goalie in his arms, he frowned. He looked happy again, just like the night at Carey’s home outside Montreal... This needed to end, but how?

_______________________________________________________________________________________________   
The next morning had been a quiet affair, not many words passing between the two goaltenders as they went about showering and getting dressed. Braden wound up cooking some eggs and potatoes for breakfast, and the two ate in silence, something that felt very unnatural to Carey. The older goaltender continued to watch Braden as he went about cleaning up the kitchen, putting things away methodically before turning and sighing.

“I… I’m sorry about last night,” Braden mumbled after a short silence. 

Carey noticed he wasn’t able to make eye contact.

“No.” Carey shook his head, “You don’t need to be.”

“But-”

“No.” Carey stopped him again, “You don’t need to be sorry.”

Braden went quiet again, taking a few seconds to breathe before nodding.

“What time do you leave today?”

“We don’t have to regroup until four this afternoon.” Carey explained.

“Alright well… do you… maybe want to wander around the city?” Braden asked cautiously.

“Sure why not.”

Which was how Carey wound up walking beside Braden on a back street in the capital of the United States. They’d driven into the city, again in silence, and parked back near some monuments. The two had wandered down towards what Braden had told him was one of his favorite places in the city but… he was very quiet the whole time. It was almost as if he were _ afraid  _ to speak, to interact with Carey, and that wasn’t what Carey wanted. Carey wanted to spend a day with his…

What was Braden to him?

A friend? A companion? An acquaintance? A fuck buddy?

Carey didn’t know, but he did know that Braden’s silence was unnerving him, and the blank look in his eyes was  _ really _ beginning to bother Carey.

They wandered in, through, and around a few stores, minimal words spoken between them, until Carey noticed a small bookstore with a cafe nestled in an alleyway. It looked cozy and fairly empty, a perfect place to sit and hopefully get some form of conversation out of the younger man. However as Carey approached the door, Braden stiffened beside him. 

Carey turned to stare at the younger Canadian, watching as Braden tensed up. His eyes were wide, skittish looking almost, as he stared at the building. After a moment, he turned his attention on Carey, a silent plea of some sort dancing in the hazel orbs.   
"Uh, do you... Not want to go in?" Carey asked with his brow furrowed in confusion as he tried to figure out what in the world could possibly be bothering Braden about a little corner cafe.   
Braden didn't speak, but shook his head in response before reaching out and taking Carey's wrist in hand and nearly dragged the older Canadian away from the little cafe. Shit he was strong. 

Quickly, the younger goaltender walked the two of them away from the cafe before he stopped dead in his tracks and took a shuddering breath.

“Braden…?” Carey questioned softly, completely taken aback by what had just happened.

“I-” Braden turned to face him, seemingly unable to continue speaking, and Carey frowned. The younger man looked as if he had just seen a ghost, and Carey could feel that his hands were clamming up slightly.

“Braden,” Carey murmured, “It’s alright, what’s wrong?”

“I can’t…” Braden shook his head and tried to steady his breathing in turn making Carey a little nervous.

In the entirety of the time spent together, Braden had never been like this. The younger goalie had always been fairly talkative and extremely friendly. Never once had he been closed off, never once had he been skittish. The younger man had had a very ‘deer-caught-in-the-headlights’ look since he had tried to bottom, but… something had to have happened to him to elicit such a sudden and emotional response from him, and the same thought from the night before, that whoever had hurt Braden needed to be set straight, creeped its way back into Carey’s mind.

“You need to talk this out.” Carey narrowed his eyes at the younger man. 

“No, Carey I don’t think that that’s a good-” Braden stammered.

“No, whatever this is,” Carey shook his head, “It’s bugging you, and you need to get it out of your system.  _ Now. _ ” 

As those words left Carey’s lips, he regretted them. He knew he was already more concerned for Braden’s well-being than he needed to be, and he certainly was not the person to be criticizing the actions of the ass who had done this to the younger goaltender seeing as he was  _ basically doing the same thing. _

_ “ _ Ok.” Braden’s voice was incredibly soft, near inaudible, but Carey heard the response nonetheless.

“Let’s go find somewhere to sit then.” Carey nodded and looked around to figure out what to do.

Not even five minutes later, Braden had pointed out another cafe and had directed Carey towards it, smiling at the host who recognized Braden when he walked in. Braden chatted amicably with the man as he sat them at a booth far from any other customers and quickly got their drink orders down before disappearing. Carey allowed a minute for Braden to mull over his thoughts before he leaned back, arms crossed, and eyes set on Braden,

“Talk.”

Braden glanced up at him before taking a deep breath,

“I… Do you remember Neuvy? Michal Neuvirth when he was on the Capitals?” 

“Yeah, fucker’s in Philly now doing god knows what? Getting his teammate’s sister pregnant or some shit?” Carey arched a brow at Braden who shot him a sheepish smile before looking down and going silent.

“Yeah, that’s him.” Braden shook his head, “We were in the AHL together, I mean, I’m sure you know, but I backed him for years and well we… erm....”

“Well? You did what?” Carey asked, seeing Braden was getting a little red in the cheeks.

“I was… involved with him.” Braden admitted, his shoulder slumping, a look that Carey decided was very unbecoming on the younger goalie.

“By involved you mean fucking or…?” Carey asked, his stomach churning at the thought.

“More like actively dating.” Braden breathed out, “I lived with him when we played for the Bears, we wound up getting together. At first I thought it  _ was  _ just a fling but…”

“But?” Carey leaned forwards slightly, carefully watching Braden’s expression.

“But eventually, it wasn’t just sex.” Braden began fiddling his thumbs a bit as he spoke.

“Oh.” Carey frowned, “You really liked him then?”

“I- yeah.” Braden nodded, “But I also… I didn’t understand that what we had, what we were  _ doing _ , wasn’t entirely healthy.”

“What do you mean ‘not healthy’?”

“I mean that he manipulated the shit out of me.” Braden scowled suddenly, the shyness leaving his voice as an angry venom bit into it, “I let him push me around, I let him get in my head, I let him be in charge- I thought he was special y’know? And so I just… I let him treat me like shit.”

“Jesus Braden-” Carey felt his heart drop.

“It was never really physical abuse.” Barden continued quickly, “Not unless he… wanted to top. That  _ wasn’t _ a pleasant experience.”

“Judging by last night I'm just going to nod my head and agree.” Carey frowned.

“I really thought…” Braden breathed out, “I thought he was  _ the one.  _ I thought he was someone I could just  _ be  _ with, and of course I didn’t realize anything was wrong until that  _ fucking interview he did. _ ”

“Interview?” Carey asked, not recalling anything apart from personal interactions that Neuvirth could have done to hurt Braden.

“He went back to the Czech Republic in the off-season and did this interview where he said I was his quote unquote weakest competition.” Braden spat, “The fucking Russian Machine guys posted about it and that’s how I found out. I spent that whole Summer reevaluating our relationship and I realized ‘oh fuck he’s been emotionally and mentally abusing me’.”

“Holy shit.” Carey whispered out, “Fucking Christ, Braden, that’s-”

“Fucked? Yeah, I know.” he slumped his shoulders again, “He came back and I talked to him, he said it was a bad translation and I… I can't believe that I fucking  _ believed _ him.”   
“I feel like that had to have been verified if it was reported on.” Carey huffed giving Braden a stern look.

“It was, but like a dumbass, I believed Michal.” Braden huffed, “That’s when shit got bad though. He was…  _ fuck,  _ he was so fucking angry that next year. His play was bad, his attitude got  _ worse _ , and he took it all out on me. When he requested the trade, I went to find him and talk him out of it and that’s when he told me he’d…. He’d….”

“What did he tell you?” Carey asked softly, afraid to hear the answer.

“He told me that he’d been using me the whole time, that he  _ never _ actually cared about me.” Braden’s voice broke slightly as his spoke, and his tone wavered over every word, “I was going to tell him I  _ loved _ him, that he should stay for  _ me,  _ but hearing that he’d never actually cared?  _ Fuck. _ ”

“That-” Carey felt an absurd rush of anger shoot through him, “That’s fucking horseshit,  _ what the fuck _ ?”   

“I mean, Carey it was years ago like-” Braden tried to interrupt.

“No, dude,” Carey frowned not knowing where this anger was coming from, “That’s fucking-  _ Christ. _ ”

“Carey, I’m more focused on the present and not- not that.” Braden shook his head. However, Carey could see through his lie with no issue. The way he’d spoken about Neuvirth? He was still fucked up over it and Carey  _ was pissed. _

“What Neuvirth did to you was-  _ that’s fucked up _ .” Carey countered before a sense of dread crashed over him. Braden was staring at him, wide eyed, innocent looking, and… hopeful. That look in Braden’s  _ eyes-  _ Braden thought that-  _ oh god, what was he doing?  _

“I-” Braden mumbled in an incredibly soft voice, “I’ve never told anyone about this before.”

Guilt suddenly stabbed painfully at Carey’s gut, twisting and wrenching inside him as he remembered that, what Neuvirth had done to Braden? That was the exact same thing he was putting Braden through. 

“Braden I-” Carey stuttered, barely dialing back on his need to reach across the table to hold Braden in some sort,  _ any sort _ of way.

“Nah, just,” Braden shook his head, exhaling in an almost dejected manner, “I don't really know how to explain it but… just… thank you for listening, that means a lot to me.”

Braden’s hazel eyes were soft and full of that puppy-like affection Carey had come to expect, yet dread.

“Yeah man, it's no problem.” Carey faked a smile as he spoke.

Braden grinned at him before looking down at the menu,

“They've got some great pasta dishes.”

“Wasn't pasta the last thing we did? And who has pasta at a  _ cafe? _ ”

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

“ _ Carey Roy Price what the actual fuck did you do? _ ” PK scowled as Carey walked through the door of his hotel room.

“My middle name isn't actually Roy, PK, we’ve had this discussion.” Carey muttered, his mood souring as he realized exactly what was about to happen.

“Where the fuck were you last night bro?” PK continued as he got up out of the chair, “Tell me you didn't spend the night at-”

“I spent the night with Holtby.” Carey sighed, “Again.”

“Jesus Christ Pricer,” PK glared at him, “you didn't fucking tell him, did you?”

“No.” Carey diverted his gaze to the floor, unable to look PK in the eye.

“Fucking-” PK groaned, “Carey, I swear to god if you don't tell him, I fucking will.”

“I can't figure out how to break it to him.” Carey grit out, “I… I need to let him down gently.”

“It's obviously too late for that you dumbass.” PK countered, “How many times have you fallen into bed with him? Two? Three times now?”

Carey nodded wordlessly.

“Christ.” PK hissed as he spun around, shaking his head as he put his hands on his head in contemplation, “Dude, you really need to tell him.”

“I'm aware of that PK.” Carey reminded him, “Again, I need to figure out how.”

“My suggestion is that you need to sit him down and explain that you're just a massive dick.” PK shrugged.

“Thanks PK, that makes me feel great.” Carey rolled his eyes.

“Well it's fucking right.” PK pointed out, “ _ You _ hooked up with him,  _ you  _ lead him on,  _ you _ happened to be so nice to this kid that now he's got feelings for you, and  _ you keep screwing him over _ .”

“I-” Carey stammered out, stopping for a moment as he realized everything PK had said was right. He should never have gone to Braden’s bed at the All-Star game and he should never have given Braden his number, and he  _ never  _ should have continued the more-than-just-friendly attitude he'd kept up with the auburn haired Canadian, “Fuck.”

“Just… get ahold of him alright?” PK sighed, “End it before it’s too late.”

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

The flight back to Montreal was slow and quiet for Carey. The netminder lost himself in contemplation the minute he’d popped down in his seat, but not one of those inner conversations that made time pass quickly. Thoughts of Braden were flying through his mind faster than he could process and that little voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like PK was reminding him how fucked the entire situation was. Braden had been hurt, betrayed, and left by himself before, and to do that to him again? Carey groaned as he let his head fall into his hands, PK frowned, but remained silent at the movement. 

“I fucked up.” Carey finally muttered under his breath as the skylights of Montreal shone brightly through the darkness below.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

When Carey stepped through the door to his house, Motty and Duke came running for him. Carey grinned at the sight of the dogs who had been staying at a friend’s home recently and dropped all his gear to play with the labs for a few minutes. However, not even the dogs could sweeten his sour mood for long. After feeding the two, walking them around the block, and then situating them for the night, Carey made his way upstairs to his bedroom.

The greyish-blue walls and dark furniture greeted him coldly, the room devoid of any signs of life. Carey frowned as he slipped out of his suit and threw a pair of flannel pants on before sitting on the large, empty, king sized bed. It was one of the few things he’d allowed himself to splurge on, that and the kitchen-living room space, but now it stared him in the face, the emptiness and perfect cleanliness of the room almost mocking him for being like this. 

It was so lonely. 

A tired sigh left Carey as he pushed back the covers and laid down in the bed. Even as he pulled the covers around him, it was cold, lifeless, and so incredibly lonesome. He had gotten all the nice furniture and accessories in the room to show off, to impress guests… to hopefully share with someone, but as of yet, not a single person other than himself had stepped foot in the room. When he had guests, he kept them out, when he and PK had been... using each other for stress relief, he kept the D-man out. Now, when Braden had come over… Carey thought back to how Braden had wanted to come help him carry blankets down to the living room during the power outage, and Carey had almost let him, but they were in  _ his  _ room, he couldn’t let the younger Canadian in there,  _ he couldn’t _ . That cold, unwelcoming feeling stayed with Carey that night, and even the depths of sleep couldn’t pull him from it.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

That Capitals had a bye week three weeks after the game against Montreal in DC. Carey had expected the team to be all together for the vacation time, that’s what the Habs had done in the past, but Carey woke one morning to a message on his phone from none other than the man he was trying to avoid himself.

‘I was thinking about coming up to Montreal for a few days and need a place to stay’ - BH

Carey stared down at his phone, frowning at the message. How the hell was he supposed to reply to that? He groaned before realizing that maybe… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. He would prefer to let Braden down in person, talking about that through text seemed… cold and very rude. Carefully, Carey typed out a short message, thinking that while this could backfire, at least he’d be able to talk in person to the younger goalie.

‘All our games are at home this week so I’ll be home if you’d like to stay with me’ - CP

Carey didn’t have to wait long before a reply came through with a ‘ping’ on his phone.

‘Awesome, I can fly in on Sunday if that works for you?’ - BH

‘Sounds good, let me know the times when you buy the tickets’ - CP

Carey spent the day cleaning up the house, which, while it wasn’t needed, made Carey focus on something other than the mess he’d gotten himself into. It was cathartic in a way, something he enjoyed doing, that made him feel better. The moment the first floor was as clean as it could possibly be, he got Motty and Duke in his car and headed down to the dog park. It was quiet at the big green field Patches had told him about the season prior, though it was also weekday. He spent a few hours throwing around some tennis balls with the dogs, running around the park with them, and just letting his mind drift. When people started filtering in some time later, Carey packed up the dog toys and balls and left the park for home, signing a few autographs for the people who knew who he was.

The second he got home, the dogs went to lay on the couch while Carey went to whip up something to eat. As he got some cold cuts out to make a sandwich, he found his mind drifting to Braden again. What did he like to eat? What did  _ he  _ do in the mornings? He obviously didn’t have dogs, but did he like them? More questions ran through his head as he finished chopping up a tomato, but was interrupted when his phone rang.

“Hey PK,” Carey sighed as he answered the phone.

“What’s up Cash Money?” Carey could here PK’s grin over the phone.

“Not much I guess, I cleaned the house a bit and took the dogs to the park this morning.” Carey told him as he finished putting together his sandwich.

“Sounds fun,” PK laughed, “Hey so, what’re you doing on Sunday? I was trying to see if anyone wanted to do something, go out or just hang at someone’s house y’know?”

“Um, I’m actually busy.” Carey frowned.

“Carey Price? Busy? On a Sunday?” PK gasped, “The world must be ending.”

“You act as if I don’t do anything ever.” Carey rolled his eyes, walking over to the barstools at the breakfast bar.

“Well, you don’t.” PK pointed out.

Carey rolled his eyes at PK’s assumption,

“Can’t a guy just sit at home with his dogs?”

“You could if me and some of the boys came over.” PK replied, his matter-of-fact tone making Carey smile, “What are you even doing man? You really don’t do much like, at all.”

“Um… I have a guest coming to stay with me.” Carey explained, trying to keep it as vague as possible.

“Well he, or she, can still hang with us right?” PK asked.

“Well I mean… he could but-” Carey stammered.

“Carey,” PK huffed and Carey could hear the serious tone shift, “is it Holtby?”

“... Yes.” Carey admitted, “Listen PK, I’m going to tell him, but I need to do it in person.”

“Dude,” PK huffed, “you’re going to break his heart if you keep hanging around him.”

“I’m going to break his heart regardless.” Carey froze, realizing what he had just said, “PK, I just… I don’t want to ruin him.”

“I know man,” PK sighed, “I know.”

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

Braden arrived a little before noon that Sunday. Carey had gotten to the airport fairly early and had managed to wait for him in the pickup lanes until he caught sight of a man in a military jacket with large aviator sunglasses and a hat walking towards him. Carey internally groaned as he realized in was Braden, before flashing a fake smile and waving him down. The second Braden saw him, Carey watched as the younger man’s entire face lit up and within seconds he was at Carey’s truck.

“It’s great to see you.” Braden smiled as he gave Carey a hug that the older netminder hadn’t been expecting.

“It’s uh- good to see you too man.” Carey smiled as he awkwardly hugged Braden back.

They quickly loaded up Braden’s luggage into the back seat, then hopped into the car, Carey maneuvering out of the airport circle with ease.

“So,” Braden began as he looked around the city, “Where to?”

“Well, I guess that’s up to you,” Carey shrugged, “You want to grab a bite or head back to my house?”

“I wouldn’t mind just going to your place and hanging out.” Braden nodded.

“To the house then.” Carey smiled, taking the exit out of the city and to the suburbs.

The ride was fairly quiet, Braden tired from his flight, and when they got home he quickly got his things out of the car and into the house while Carey had to take a breather to prepare himself for an entire week of Braden in his house.  When Carey stepped through the door to the main entryway, his heart stopped dead in his chest. Braden’s things were thrown haphazardly around the floor and Braden was sitting on the floor laughing as Motty and Duke attacked him with licks and nuzzles. Braden’s hat had been knocked off and his hair was messy as he laughed and played with the two large dogs.

“Some vicious attack dogs you’ve you here!” Braden practically cackled a Motty gave him a big wet kiss right up his cheek drawing another bout of giggles from the auburn haired man.

“They do their best.” Carey nodded as Duke jumped up to greet him.

“What’re their names?” Braden asked as Motty took it upon himself to plop down in Braden’s lap.

“The big guy on you is Motty, and this is Duke.” Carey informed him, giving Duke a pat on the head as he did so.

“Hi there Motty,” Braden cooed at the lab on his lap, giving him scratches behind the ears, “They weren’t here last time.”

“I had taken them to a friend’s house while we were on a roadie.” Carey explained, “Would you like anything to eat or drink?”

“I don’t think-” Braden began before his stomach gave a loud gurgling noise, “I stand corrected, um, what kind of food are we talking?”

 

A few minutes later Braden and Carey were at the table, each of them chowing down on sandwiches.

“How’s the team been?” Braden asked in between bites, managing a smile as he ate.

“Pretty good, we haven’t been playing our best, but everyone’s hopeful for playoffs.” Carey grinned, “How’re you guys?”

“Tired,” Braden admitted, “As much as we didn’t want the bye, I think we needed the rest. We’ve been playing well though.”

“Yeah, no shit Mr. Shutty Streak.” Carey chuckled watching as Braden flushed at the words.

“If you say so,” Braden smiled softly, “You play Boston, Toronto, and Pittsburgh this week right?”

“Yeah,” Carey sighed, dreading each of those games, knowing the possibilities of all those games going bad fast, “It’s… going to be interesting.”

“I’m honestly a bit excited to see a Boston Montreal game,” Braden admitted sheepishly, “There’s always a certain edge to an Original Six rivalry game.”

“That’s for sure.” Carey groaned.

“But anyways, do you have any plans for the day?” Braden asked as he finished his lunch.

“Not really?” Carey shrugged, “We can go out and do something if you’d like?”

“I’m game to do whatever,” Braden told him, “I’m not that hard to please.”

Carey had to stop himself from flinching at the obvious attempt at flirting before settling himself.

“There are a few fun shops in town,” Carey began, thinking about what kind of things were in the shopping district before lighting up, “I think we have a hat store down there too?”

Braden lit up at the idea of there being a hat store in town and how could Carey say no to that?

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

Braden. Loved. Hats. 

Carey didn’t think anyone could be this passionate about anything other than like, hockey, but the minute they stepped into the two story, brick and mortar, filled to the  _ brim _ with hats store, and Braden looked as if he’d just stepped foot in front of the pearly gates of heaven. Braden was  _ everywhere _ at once, trying on hats of various sizes, materials, colors, and styles, Carey felt his head spinning as he tried to comprehend  _ any  _ of it. However, the look of absolute joy and excitement on Braden’s face was worth it in his eyes. The younger Canadian deserved this kind of happiness, especially considering what Carey needed to tell him. Though, as Carey looked at Braden amicably chatting with a salesperson, he knew that day would not be today.

After what felt like forever, Braden came to the front with two hats, a black fedora-type hat and a straw… something in hand. Carey looked down at the two hats before taking them from Braden.

“Carey?” Braden asked in confusion before Carey went up to the register, not saying a word to the younger Canadian as he paid for the hats and a pair of hat boxes for them. Carey turned to see a blushing and dumbfoundead Braden staring at him in the middle of the store.

“Here.” Carey muttered as he handed the large shopping bags over, a rush of heat spreading up his neck at the adoring look Braden was giving him.

“Thank you.” Braden breathed out, his voice quiet as if he couldn’t believe what had just happened.

“It’s nothing.” Carey nodded before leading him out of the store, trying to figure out why the fuck he’d just done that, “Let’s head… elsewhere, I’m famished.”

When they got to the car, Carey went to start the engine when he felt something… fuzzy brush against his face and realized Braden had kissed him on the cheek.

“Thank you.” Braden whispered again, his eyes down cast, almost in embarrassment, and his smile shy and soft. Carey hated the way that look made him feel.

“It’s nothing.” Carey repeated, trying to find reason in his actions, “What kind of food are you feeling up to?”

“... I was hoping we could just do something at home?”

Which is how two hours, two dog walks, four tomatoes, an unfathomable amount of flour, and a metric fuckton of pasta later, Carey and Braden wound up with pasta. Again.

“Why do we always do pasta?” Braden asked as he swirled the homemade vodka sauce around his plate, looking out at the fenced backyard where the dogs were running around.

“I have no idea.” Carey shrugged as he stabbed a bit of cooked tomato, “It’s easy? On the diet plan?”

Braden appeared content with that answer and went about eating the rest of the dish.

Dinner went slowly and quietly, and the when they finished, Braden offered to clean the kitchen. Carey agreed and was tasked on finding a movie for them to watch. After letting the dogs back in, Carey moved over to the living room, but as he sat on the couch, memories of what had happened the  _ last  _ time Braden had been there filled his thoughts. With a silent huff of annoyance, Carey forced those thoughts down as he scrolled through the channels on the television. After a few minutes Carey was about to end the search and dig through his blu-rays when Braden strolled over.

“Oh hey,” Braden’s eyes lit up and a smile stretched across his face, “ _ ‘50 First Dates’ _ is on, I love that movie.”

“... You like Rom-Coms?” Carey asked, suspiciously arching an eyebrow.

“Guilty pleasure.” Braden admitted sheepishly, a blush rising to his face as he looked at the ground.

“Alright.” Carey sighed as he flipped it to the channel where the movie was just starting.

Braden grinned as he settled himself at the opposite end of the couch than Carey while some ridiculous song played on screen.

Throughout the movie, there were regular cheesy jokes, some decent ones, and some really terrible ones, but Carey watched and heard as Braden laughed his way through the movie. The premise seemed disgustingly cute and not Carey’s thing, but he… kind of enjoyed it. Braden explained parts of the movie Carey had either missed or didn’t understand in a way that was neither condescending nor uppity, it was, dare he say, sweet.  When the movie ended, Braden turned over to him with a shy smile,

“So?” he asked.

“It was alright.” Carey shrugged, “Not really what I would’ve chosen, but you are the guest.”

Braden flushed at his words before looking down at the clock,

“Oh wow, it got late fast.”

Carey looked down to see ‘12:45’ flashing on the digital clock,

“Oh.”

“Uh, should we turn in then?” Braden asked softly.

“I guess so.” Carey mumbled, looking over at Braden’s luggage still cluttered on the floor, “Yeah let’s get you situated.” 

Carey quickly made sure the dogs had enough water before going to help Braden with his luggage, frowning as he looked up the stairs.

“Shall we?” Braden asked, suitcase in hand, looking up the stairwell as Carey was.

“Y-yeah.” Carey nodded, leading Braden up the stairs, but pausing the minute he was up there. Braden wasn’t planning on staying in Carey’s room was he? With a deep breath Carey turned to see Braden looked at him with those stupidly innocent hazel eyes. Carey stared at him before walking to the guest room. Braden was not staying  _ with  _ him, Carey wouldn’t be able to handle that.

Carey set the backpack Braden had brought next to the bed and Braden placed his suitcase beside that. The younger Canadian looked around while Carey panicked slightly, knowing he’d have to explain-

“This is kind of small for a master,” Braden poked Carey’s side with a laugh, “I was expecting ‘The Savior of Montreal’ to splurge a bit mo-”

“This is my guest room.” Carey interrupted prompting a confused look from the younger goalie.

“Your… what?” Braden furrowed his brow.

“I have morning skate around 9, so I may not be here when you wake up, the dogs will be fine. If you need me, I’m at the end of the hall.” Carey explained, ignoring the younger man’s comments. The second he finished speaking, Carey left the room, walked to his own, and locked the door behind him.

Carey quickly threw his sleep clothes on and crawled into bed, the same cold, isolation from many nights before creeping into his bones. He realized what he’d done to Braden was a total dick move, but he had no choice if he was going to end this once and for all.

He didn’t sleep well that night.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

The next morning was uneventful. Carey followed his normal routine of feeding the dogs, brewing his coffee, walking the dogs, drinking his coffee, eating breakfast, and getting dressed for the day. Braden was nowhere to be found the next morning and Carey forced himself not to care.

Practice was fine as usual, he felt good and prepared for the game against Boston that night. He was able to shower, pack up his gear, and get dressed with no problem, but the minute he got to his car, PK was waiting for him.

“Sup Pricer.” PK grinned.

“Hey PK,” Carey sighed, “What’s up?”

“You talked with Holtby yet?” PK asked.

Carey merely frowned at the question.

“Christ man,” PK shook his head, “it’s like ripping a bandaid-”

“Not when I’m going to crush him.” Carey argued, “PK he’s a good guy, he has his heart in the right place, just… listen, I can’t fuck him up more than he already has been, I won’t do it to him.”

“You keep saying that man,” PK groaned with a shake of his head, “What do you mean?”

“I mean the kid was stuck in a shitty emotionally abusive relationship.” Carey grit out through his teeth, staring down at the ground in shame.

“Oh.” PK breathed out, his face falling as he frowned, “Jesus Christ, Pricey, you’re fucked.”

“No shit.” Carey spat, “Listen, I forced him into my guest room last night and I left him at the house alone this morning, I need to make sure he’s alright.”

“Alright.” PK sighed, “You need help, I’ll be there, ok?”

“Yeah PK, of course.” Carey nodded before hopping into his truck and turning the ignition.

The drive home was quiet, though then again, his life had been that way recently. When Carey arrived at home, the house was full of sound. Braden must’ve figured out how to operate the sound system because some Tragically Hip song was playing through the speakers. Carey wandered into the kitchen to see Braden eating a bowl of cereal while watching Motty and Duke play tug of war with a toy.

“Hey.” Carey smiled as he set his keys down in a dish on the breakfast bar.

“Hi.” Braden smiled back, none of the disappointment from the night before showing on his face, “How was practice?”

“Good,” Carey nodded, “everyone seems prepared for the game tonight which is good.”

“That’s always a good feeling.” Braden chuckled and suddenly Carey felt immensely guilty for the night before.

“Hey so,” Carey huffed trying to figure out how to make it work before an idea formed in his head, “I’m sorry I threw you in the guest room, I have teammates visit fairly often and well… I’m not… out.” 

“ _ Oh! _ ” Braden stammered, “No, no it’s alright! I figured it was something like that! It’s all good, don’t worry.”

“Yeah just, the Gallys have a terrible tendency to break in.” Carey rolled his eyes.

“Yeah no that’s fair man, I totally get it, I’m not out either for the most part. I mean Ovi knows and I think Backstrom but… yeah.” Braden shrugged, “Oh shit, will this be an issue with me being at the game tonight?”

“Fuck uh, I don’t think so?” Carey wracked his brain for answers, “I mean I have ticket allowances for friends and family, I can just say you’re a good friend-”

“I meant with the… not out stuff.” Braden blushed softly.

“... We can always say we’ve been friends for a while?” Carey suggested.

“We’ve been at enough goalie camps together.” Braden nodded, “I came up to visit a good friend who I haven’t seen enough of lately.”   
“Yeah, perfect.” Carey nodded before looking at the clock, “Game’s at 7, we need to leave by 4, and I need to get a nap in before that… we have time to do something I think?”

“To be honest, I’m fine with staying here.” Braden told him, “Game days can be stressful, especially rivalry games.”

This of course lead to Carey to be cooped up with Braden for the entire day. It wasn’t as stressful as Carey had worried it could have been, but having to be confined in close quarters with Braden was not without challenges. Braden made it absolutely impossible to dislike him, something Carey had been vaguely aware of, but had never dealt with in the way he was now. The younger Canadian had obviously turned up his flirting and charming attributes as high as he could around Carey, and the older of the pair was struggling to keep his head above water. How the hell was he supposed to break this off? He could hurt this boy. Braden was too sweet and too kind, Carey felt like a monster when thinking about what he was doing.

Carey was relieved when he was able to escape for his quick nap, but all too soon it came to an end and he quickly gathered his things for the game. When he finished packing up, he moved his bags downstairs and found Braden dressed casually in a well fitting pair of jeans, hiking boots, and a flannel.

“You look like a lumberjack.” Carey laughed as he set his sticks to the ground.

“It’s comfortable.” Braden chuckled back before looking around, almost shyly. God this boy was easily flustered.

“Question?” Carey arched an eyebrow at him.

“... I don’t own any Habs stuff.” Braden pursed his lips, a soft blush settling on his face, “Do you have anything I could borrow?”

“Um,” Carey mumbled, feeling his face heat up slightly, “Let me uh… let me see what I can find.”

Carey quickly bounded back up the stairs and into his room, immediately going to the closet and digging through it for any Habs merchandise he could find. He was able to pull a jersey off a rack before sprinting back down to Braden and handing him the red and blue fabric.

“Oh man, thank you.” Braden smiled as he turned the material in his hands before a deep blush set into his face.

“Is something wrong?” Carey asked quickly before he caught sight of the big ‘31’ emblazoned on the jersey, not the ‘33’ he thought he’d grabbed.

“Nothing, it’s perfect.” Braden murmured softly as he gave that stupidly beautiful,  _ bashful _ smile.

Oh Carey was so fucked.

As soon as they got to the Bell Centre, Carey knew shit was going to get ugly fast because Gally and Chucky were parked right behind him. Carey silently prayed they wouldn’t notice him, or worse Braden but, as per usual, the universe had other plans.

“Hey Pricey!” Gally yelled excitedly.

“Hey Gally,” Carey mumbled as he got out of the car, opening the back seat to get his gear out.

“You didn’t tell us you had a  _ friend  _ with you.” Chucky snickered as Gally pointed to Braden who walked over to the two young forwards.

“I didn’t realize it was your business.” Carey hissed before Braden was in earshot.

“Hey,” Braden raised a hand in greeting towards the two younger players.

“Hello,” Chucky chuckled reaching a hand out to shake Braden’s, “I’m Alex Galchenyuk.”

“Braden Holtby, nice to meet you.” Braden grinned and shook Chucky’s hand before turning to Gally.

“Brenden Gallagher, but I’m sure you knew that.” Gally smirked, shaking Braden’s hand, “Sweet moves on Chara the other night, that was a wicked save in the second.”

“Braden Holtby.” Braden grinned back, “That was a great goal past Bishop on Tuesday, he’s been getting slow on those snipes.”

Gally beamed at the praise before turning to Carey,

“He’s nice, can we have him instead of you?”

“Fuck off.” Carey rolled his eyes before laughing.

“So Braden, what’re you doing in Montreal?” Gally asked as they all started to walk.

“Carey’s an old friend and I don’t get to see him enough.” Braden laughed, “I don’t get to see Montreal that often either so I figured it’d be fun to visit.”

“The city has lots to offer.” Chucky said softly while Carey looked over to see the Bruins charter bus on the other side of the lot.

“Fucking Bruins.” Gally muttered under his breath as they entered the building.

“You two go on ahead,” Carey told them as they all stepped foot inside, “I’m going to show Braden some stuff.”

“Alright, see ya Pricey,” Gally grinned, “great to meet you Holtbeast!”

Braden gave him a crooked smile and chuckled as he and Chucky took off.

“Some lively kids you’ve got around here.” Braden laughed as he spun to face Carey.

“They’re menaces those two.” Carey shook his head with a smile, “So, let’s go see Julien and see what we can do for you.”

After a few minutes of wandering around and talking to people, they were able to snag Braden a club level seat with some friends of the team and Carey was off to do his pre-game routine. 

Time flew by when Carey stepped foot in the locker room and before he knew it, it was game time. As he skated out onto the ice, everything felt right, it was good, it was perfect. 

The game, as all games went against the Bruins, was rough. Penalty minutes were racking up, more fights than usual had broken out, but, the Habs were outplaying the Bruins. Carey himself was happy with his game, easily batting shot after shot away, with a few challenging snipes and wristers thrown in the mix. Losing himself in the game, the scrape of his skates against the ice, the tracking of the puck, it was all so easy to him. Easy, natural, right. Easy. Natural. Right. Blocker top. Stick down. Glove save. Butterfly drop. Buzzer.

Carey flinched at the loud noise and looked up to see the final score, 3-1. A Win. Over the Bruins. Hell yes.

Locker room festivities were in order and when Carey stepped foot in the locker room, the team went wild and chanted his name. The revelry couldn’t help but make him laugh. He felt great, amazing even, nothing was better than having a good night and getting a great win against the fucking Bruins. It didn’t take PK long to appear next to him while Montoya was congratulating Carey for the win.

“Pricer,” PK laughed, “That was fucking  _ great _ !”

“Fuck yeah it was,” Carey grinned wildly, fist bumping the D-man.

“You gonna come out with the team for drinks tonight?” PK waggled his eyebrows as he smiled.

“Yeah I-” Carey frowned, “Shit, PK, Holtby is-”

“You can bring him along.” PK rolled his eyes, “I won’t say anything, but you better get your shit figured out alright?”

“I will PK, don’t worry.” Carey nodded.

“Hey, Pricer!” Max yelled across the room prompting both Carey and PK to look up, “Uh, why is Braden Holtby here? And why is he wearing a Habs jersey?”

“He’s a friend of mine!” Carey yelled back, hoping his nervousness wasn’t evident, “Came to visit during his bye week!”

“He coming for drinks?” 

“Uh, does anyone mind?”

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

An hour later, the Canadiens, plus Braden, were crammed into a bar downtown, music blaring and chaos had erupted. Everyone was dancing, drinking, shouting, it was a bit of a mess, however, it was a mess Carey had come to love. As per usual Carey had distanced himself from the throng of the crowd, but instead of just PK and  _ maybe  _ Max wandering over every few minutes, Braden was glued to his side in the booth. The younger goaltender seemed entranced by the action happening around them, though Carey was chalking that up to the fact that the rest of the team had been bringing the table drink after drink and, well, Braden was too shy to refuse them. Carey wasn’t entirely sure what to do with the auburn-haired goalie, watching as his face steadily flushed deeper and his eyes grew hazier and hazier from all the cocktails and beers that were in his system. Suddenly, just as Carey was about to call it quits and get the kid out of there, PK appeared next to him, getting comfortable in the seat next to Braden, throwing an arm around the younger man.

“How’re you doing Holtbeast?” PK cracked a grin at Braden, the Toronto-native obviously buzzed.

“‘M good.” Braden giggled turning his too wide, too crooked smile to Carey.

The older Canadian felt his heart drop at the sight. Braden was so  _ happy,  _ how the fuck could Carey take that from him?

“Pricer, I think your boy is drunk.” PK cackled as he poked Braden’s face, drawing a slurred protest from Braden.

“I think you’d be correct.” Carey sighed as Braden’s dopey smile widened.

“Carey, why aren’t you drinking too?” Braden chided, his voice and attitude much more relaxed than usual.

“Someone has to get us home.” Carey told the drunk goalie, prompting a, ‘ah’ of realization from him.

PK moved again and this time sat next to Carey, both of the watching as Braden resumed watching the rest of the Habs, laughing as Gally fell over on the dance floor.

“He’s certainly happy.” PK snickered in Carey’s ear.

“We aren’t doing this now PK.” Carey whispered back, just loud enough that PK could hear over the music.

“All I’m saying is that you keep building his hopes up, it’s going to crush him even harder when-”

“I know, PK.” Carey frowned something stabbing painfully at his heart as he stared at the younger goaltender, “I know.”

The night ended soon afterwards, mostly because Carey saw Braden eyeing up the dance floor and like hell he was going to be the cause of  _ that _ media shit storm. Braden had conked out in the car when they had hit the highway and was snoring softly as Carey turned into his driveway. The sight, as much as Carey hated to admit it, was endearing. The younger goalie looked so calm, so serene… Carey shook himself out of the thought before he could finish it. He had a mission for that week, and that kind of thinking wasn’t going to help him. 

After taking a deep breath, Carey gently shook Braden awake, a soft groan escaping the younger man’s throat as his hazel eyes blinked open slowly.

“Hey,” Carey smiled softly, “we’re um- we’re back.”

“Already?” Braden asked, his voice sounding more put together than it had at the bar club.

“Yeah, let’s get you upstairs and in bed alright?”

Braden stared at him and flushed at the words while Carey mentally facepalmed at the way he worded it.

“To sleep Braden.” Carey elaborated before hopping out of the truck then helping Braden out as well.

The dogs were happy to see them both, and the pair played with the dogs for a moment before Carey set Braden in a chair while he walked the dogs. The walk was fairly short, but Motty and Duke were very appreciative because when they stepped in the door, both went back to sleep on their respective dog beds. Carey smiled at the lab pair before turning back to Braden with a determined mindset only to see the younger man giving him a moonstruck gaze.

“Uh… Braden?” Carey asked, holding his hands up as he noticed Braden teetering slightly.

“You- Y’know…” Braden slurred, his alcohol addled mind slow as a confused look crossed his face followed by a look that was as if a light bulb had gone off over his head, “You’re  _ really pretty _ .”

“I- uh- Um-” Carey felt himself flush, not having expected anything like what had come out of Braden’s mouth.

“You're blushing.” Braden giggled and fuck if that wasn't cute.

“Um well uh… Ready to go up?” Carey asked as he eyed the stairwell not able to look at Braden as his heart began to race.

“Hmmm,” Braden looked up as well before grinning, “I’m sure you'll catch me if I fall.”

The trek up the stairs wasn’t nearly as hard as Carey imagined it could have been, only slightly awkward and fumbly, and soon Braden was sitting on the edge of the guest room bed. Carey made sure the younger of the pair wouldn’t fall over before retrieving Braden’s sleep clothes from the other side of the bed. He carefully placed them in Braden’s lap and removed the decorative pillows his mother had insisted he have from the bed.

“Alright, are you good?” Carey asked as Braden stared at the clothing in his lap.

“... Yeah, I guess so.” Braden mumbled as he shrugged off his jacket, dropping it to the ground as he reached for the hem of his shirt.

“Braden?” Carey questioned with a frown, the younger man looked… sad, a complete turnaround from his behavior the moment before.

Braden ignored him as he pulled his shirt off before standing up to get his jeans off.

“Holtby, what’s up?” Carey pushed, trying to get the younger man to open up about what could be bothering him.

Braden shook his head as he pulled his own flannel pants on and pulling the covers back on the bed, “It’s nothing, I’m fine, just had too much to drink.”

“Holts…” Carey frowned, reaching his hand out before pulling it back to his body, “If you need me I’ll be in my room.”

“Night.” Braden muttered and suddenly, Carey couldn't tell if he was drunk or not.

“Night.”

Of course, when Carey got back to his room a sense of dread overcoming him while nausea twisted in his stomach. The netminder quickly moved to throw his sleep clothes on before sitting himself on the bed. He’d been… kind of an asshole to Braden and that absolutely was not the way he wanted to go about ending whatever their situation was. He shuddered as he slid under the covers, all those horrible emotions cocooning around him like a frigid blizzard. He didn’t know when he’d begun to cry, all he knew was that he could feel the salty bite of tears as he drifted into a cold, nightmare filled sleep.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

Carey bolted upright, breathing heavily, hand clutched over his chest. The nightmare. It- what- Braden finding out and yelling, screaming,  _ crying- _

“ _ Fuck. _ ” Carey gasped for air as his entire body began to shake. He buried his hands in his hair and tried to settle his breathing as panic surged through him, but it was to no avail. For what felt like forever, Carey’s chest tightened and tightened and  _ tightened. _ Rough, choked out sobs escaped from his chapped lips. Every nasty thought his brain could conjure up was hurled at his tired and vulnerable mind. Finally, when he had no more tears to cry, Carey laid motionless in bed, his chest shuddering as he fought for oxygen. It took him an eternity to muster up the strength to breathe, forcing his body to cooperate in the settling process.

The groan he let out hurt in his dry throat, and Carey frowned at he saw his clock blink 6:15 am. Deciding he needed to do something about his throat, the goalie walked out of his room, his eyes focused on the stairs. Suddenly, he felt the urge to check on Braden. However, Carey pushed the thought from his mind as he looked to Braden’s closed door. It hadn’t been closed the night before.

As he descended the stairs, Carey recounted his actions from the night before, notably, how rude he’d been to Braden. He needed to make it up to him, he needed to apologize, he needed… 

Carey froze as an idea popped into his head. He hoped Braden liked pancakes.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

Not even an hour and multiple stacks of pancakes later, Carey heard a yawn and footsteps coming from the stairwell. Looking up, he saw Braden come down the last few steps and blink sleepily before staring at carey in surprise.

“Morning.” Carey smiled at him as he set the newest batch of pancakes on the counter, “How’re you?”

“Um, ok?” Braden blinked at him as if the younger man had no clue how to feel.

“I’m sorry I was such a dick last night.” Carey sighed out, “I figured pancakes would be a good way to apologize?”

“I- oh.” Braden’s eyes widened, “Carey you weren’t-”

“Shut it, yes I was.” Carey interrupted, “Now sit your ass down and have some apology pancakes.”

“I-”

“Nope!” Carey stopped him again, chiding Braden playfully, “Apology pancakes!”

“... Ok.”

After the maple syrup was located, and most of it dumped on top of way too many stacks of pancakes, which were all eaten, which was also a mistake, Braden and Carey had both collapsed onto the couch, groaning at how full they were.

“That,” Braden began, “was a lot of fucking pancakes.”

“No shit.” Carey groaned back, “I made so  _ many. _ ”

“They were good though.” Braden sighed, “Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem man.” Carey nodded before looking at the clock and seeing it was barely 8 o’clock, “Uh so, what do you want to do today?”

“Um,” Braden pursed his lips as he scrunched his brow in thought before looking down to Motty and Duke, “Is there a dog park around for these guys?”

Carey smiled the minute he heard the words ‘dog park’.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

Motty and Duke were incredibly pleased when they hopped out of the car and into the large green field the dog park was situated in. Carey smiled and laughed as Motty practically tripped over himself and his leash in excitement while Duke pawed at Braden’s leg. The laugh that came from Braden as he crouched down to play with Duke stirred something in Carey’s stomach, but the older goalie ignored it in favor of opening the gate, and unleashing Motty into the field. Braden brought Duke over and soon, tennis balls were being thrown left, right, and all over the big green park. 

“These two have a lot of energy.” Braden grinned all of a sudden. The two had been laughing and talking to the dogs, but hadn’t spoken a word to one another since they’d arrived.

“Yeah they do.” Carey chuckled as he launched his tennis ball as hard as he could, watching as Motty and Duke sprinted after it.

“Why labs?” Braden asked as Motty ran back to the pair, dropping the slobbery ball at Carey’s feet.

“They’re friendly,” Carey smiled as he bent down to scratch Motty’s ears, “they’re good family dogs.”

“Huh,” Braden nodded before looking up to Duke, “why family dogs with… well… uh…”

“No family?” Carey muttered softly, his eyes drooping slightly.

“Yeah.” Braden’s voice was barely a whisper.

“I… don’t like living or being alone in general.” Carey sighed as he stood and threw the ball again, “Not what you’d expect I guess.”

“Not really.” Braden offered a sympathetic smile.

“Well, these guys  _ feel _ like family, it’s nice having someone greet you when you get home.” Carey smiled, “Besides, here’s to hoping right?”

“Yeah.” Braden smiled back as Carey realized what he’d said could imply.

The silence returned soon afterwards and within the hour, both labs were out of breath and exhausted.

“Guess we should get them home.” Braden chuckled as he sat next to the two dogs.

“Probably.” Carey shook his head in amusement as Duke took it upon himself to stretch out in Braden’s lap, “Though, there is an outdoor cafe in town where they give the dogs little ice creams?”

Braden looked up with the biggest grin Carey had ever seen.

“I guess we’re going to the cafe.”

The cafe didn’t take very long to get to and Carey, being a regular, was able to get them seated fairly quick. Motty and Duke immediately started drinking water when they got to the table while Braden chuckled at the sight.

“They’re really great dogs.” Braden mused as he watched them.

“They are.” Carey smiled as Motty laid down at his feet.

“So,” Braden hummed as he scanned the menu, “what’s usually good?”

“They’ve got great burgers.” Carey told him, already knowing that was what he was getting.

“Hm,” Braden hummed softly, “so you don’t like living alone?”

“Uh no, not really,” Carey mumbled, “it had its perks the first few years, but now, it’s…”

“Lonely?” Braden questioned quietly.

“More boring really.” Carey lied, not wanting Braden to realize how insecure he was over the whole situation, “It’s why I’m out with the dogs all the time though, they get me moving and doing things, it’s nice.”

“Yeah,” Braden nodded before frowning, “I’ve found living alone… kind of liberating? I mean after Neuvirth left, I got to know myself again, I got to do things I wasn’t really allowed to… it’s been nice, but now I’m mostly lonely again.”

“At least that dickmunch is gone.” Carey offered a smile.

“Off in Philly getting some teammate’s sister pregnant.” Braden laughed sheepishly.

Another silence fell over the two and time suddenly flew by because it didn’t take long for the food to arrive and be eaten. Carey went to ask for the dog treats before their waitress seemingly produced them out of nowhere prompting a smile from Carey. 

Without speaking, Carey handed one of the small ice cream cones to Braden who in turn fed it to Motty with that same lopsided,  _ wildly _ happy grin spread across his face. That same annoying pang of guilt sank in Carey’s stomach as he watched Braden, but he snapped himself out of the funk quickly and gave Duke his treat before the younger goalie noticed.

Silence seemed to be the theme of the day, as the ride back to Carey’s house happened with no words spoken between him and Braden. The younger Canadian appeared happy to watch the landscape of Quebec rush past them as they sped down the highway. The dogs were asleep in the back, Braden was happy, and although it was silent, Carey felt content.

They arrived back home without much fanfare, both dogs excited to see the house, but not a bark came from them. He grabbed Motty’s leash and Braden took Duke’s before headed back inside.

Carey had just locked the doors and turned to Braden when the dogs started barking excitedly and running around the two men. A chorus of laughter escaped from both of them before Carey noticed the leashes still attached to the dog’s collars.

“Oh shit,” Carey gasped as the leashes wrapped tight enough around his and Braden’s legs that they forced the two together and sent them tumbling to the floor. Before he could smack against the wood, Carey felt a pair of hands grab his head and back and looked up in surprise to see Braden holding him so that he wouldn't have hit his head, a concerned look in his eyes. Not a word passed between them, nothing but Carey’s soft pants from his open mouth and the quiet sound of Braden breathing.

Before Carey could react, Braden leaned down and pressed his lips softly to the older of the pair’s. Carey gasped in surprise, but something within him appeared to tell him this was alright, that he  _ wanted _ this. A soft sigh escaped Carey’s throat and he let himself melt into Braden’s hold while gently wrapping his arms around the younger man’s shoulders. 

Braden’s lips were soft and his beard was rough, the contrasting textures sending Carey’s brain into a tizzy that wanted that rough beard back against his thighs like that night during the blizzard. Braden pressed Carey further into the ground, his knees bracketing the older man’s own, and he dragged his tongue softly against the line of Carey’s lips. With a moan, Carey let Braden’s tongue slip into his mouth, his body relaxed yet wired with some kind of excited electricity as the younger of the two gently slid their tongues together. There was no desperation in the kiss, it was so unlike most of the others they'd shared, it was soft, sweet, caring… Carey found himself not caring about that anymore though, his lust hazed mind wanting Braden closer to him.

“B-Braden,” Carey groaned softly as the younger man pulled away to catch his breath, “What’re you-”

“You have a game tomorrow.” Braden chuckled, his voice sweet as maple syrup.

“Fuck that.” Carey groaned, grabbing Braden’s shirt and pulling him in for another kiss.

“Carey,” Braden whined playfully before pressing a kiss to Carey’s cheek, lighting the soft skin there on fire, “we can't do this if you have a game tomorrow.”

“Yes we can,” Carey mumbled into the skin of Braden’s neck as he leaned to nip the sensitive strip right under Braden’s ear, “We don't  _ have  _ to fuck like that every time.”

“But I like to.” Braden growled in his ear, the gruff tone of his voice sending shivers down Carey’s spine and definitely sending some blood rushing down his body.

“Yeah?” Carey hummed as Braden pressed him back to the ground.

“Yeah,” Braden groaned as he stretched himself out on top of Carey, pressing his thigh between the older goalie’s legs and drawing a soft sigh from said goalie, “Like making you come with only my cock in you.”

“Ooh, someone’s been working on their dirty talk.” Carey smirked as Braden grabbed his wrists and pinned them above the older man’s head.

“You seemed to like it the last time we were here.” Braden grinned as he began to toy with the hem of Carey’s shirt with his free hand.

“I think you'd be correct in that statement.” Carey laughed as he tried to wiggle out of Braden’s grip, blushing slightly as he realized the younger man had a  _ really  _ good hold on him.

“Floor isn't as comfortable this time though.” Braden noted.

“We  _ are _ on hardwood.” Carey chuckled.

“How about we get you on the couch and I give you the best blow job of your life?” Braden offered, a sly grin crossing his face.

“You sure you can top last time?” Carey challenged with a scoff.

Braden gave him that stupidly cute lopsided grin and something told Carey he shouldn't have prompted that task.

 

“Holy _ fuck _ ” Carey moaned, his voice cracked and hoarse. He really,  _ really  _ should not have challenged Braden, but at the same time was thankful he did because holy shit did this boy know how to give a blow job. 

Braden had probably had Carey’s cock in his mouth for the better part of half an hour, teasing the older man the whole time. Carey’d never really been edged like  _ this  _ before, but he couldn't say he didn't like it. Sure, last time they’d been together there had been edging, but not… not like this. It was definitely nice to have Braden with his lovely pink lips wrapped around his cock, the younger man’s tongue dancing lightly across the sensitive skin and flicking across the slit every few seconds all while the auburn haired man’s hand anchored like a cock ring at the base of his shaft. Carey sighed and let his head loll back as Braden’s other hand gently cupped his balls.

“Fuck, Braden,” Carey groaned as the younger man tongued at the slit again, “where did you even learn how to do this?”

The only reply Carey was given was a low, long hum which drew an embarrassingly loud whine from his lips. He could almost feel Braden smirk around his cock and Carey just shuddered. Suddenly, Braden began to move a bit faster, bobbing his head up and down Carey’s cock, the sensation almost too much to bear. A sharp gasp escaped Carey as he struggled to keep his composure. He'd been kept on the edge for so long, it was practically unbearable now. It didn't take long for him to crack however, because soon desperate cries and pleas began to flow like a stream down a mountainside from his mouth. Braden hummed happily around his cock again, seemingly pleased with his handiwork.

“B-Braden-” Carey cried out, his thighs shaking as he struggled not to thrust up into Braden’s mouth, “P-please- please I need t-to-”

Braden took a moment before looking up at him, his hazel eyes wide and beautiful through his lashes and Carey felt something drop in the pit of his stomach at that look.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Carey whimpered at the sight, feeling his self control ebb away with each swallow and every bob of Braden’s head, “Braden _please_ I- I need t-to- _fuck-_ Braden _please_ _let m-me come._ ”

Braden looked up at him again, a smile two glinting in his eyes as he removed the hand from the base of Carey’s cock and moved both hands to the darker haired goalie’s ass, groping the firm flesh there before sinking further down onto Carey’s cock until his nose was pressed into the fine dusting of hair on Carey’s lower abdomen.

Carey gave a wanton moan at the sight and slowly moved his hand from where it had been gripping the couch into Braden’s hair. Carefully, Carey gave the younger man’s hair a light tug and Braden’s eyes slid closed with a moan of his own. It didn't take long for both of Carey’s hands to be buried in Braden’s hair and soon Braden was bobbing his head quickly up and down the older man’s cock again, this time with the intent to get the darker haired goalie to come. Carey shook slightly as he felt himself getting closer than Braden had allowed him to get beforehand and began to let out soft ‘ah’s with every breath. Braden gave another moan around Carey’s cock and that was all it took before Carey threw his head back, moaning as waves of pleasure exploded through his body. He barely registered Braden giving another much louder moan around him, but was too out of his head to care. He managed to look down just in time to watch Braden swallow around him before pulling off, a little bit of come dripping out of his mouth and into his beard.

“Holy shit,” Carey breathed out softly, staring at Braden’s ruddy cheeks and half lidded eyes, “That was- you were-”

Braden merely smiled as he laughed softly at Carey.

“Need me to return the favor?” Carey asked, fully ready to get Braden off, it was only fair right?

“Oh… Uh…” Braden stammered, looking down and Carey could see the blush deepening on his face. Carey looked down and felt his own face get hot as he caught sight of the wet spot in Braden’s jeans.

“Oh.” Carey swallowed, “That's uh-”

“Listen I-”

“That's hot.”

Braden stared up at him in a befuddled silence for a minute before smiling sheepishly at Carey.

“I feel like that's uncomfortable.”  Carey pointed out after a minute.

“... Yup.” Braden chuckled, “I'm uh- I’m gonna go change.”

“Have fun with that.” Carey nearly snorted with laughter but managed to contain it, “I’m going to go and make something to snack on, any preferences?”

“Not pasta.”

“I can do that.”

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

It only took a few minutes for Carey to put together some somehow-still-complicit-with-the-diet-plan-nachos and pop them in the oven, but the moment he had nothing to do, his mind took it upon itself to think over what had just happened. He'd just used Braden. Again.

“Fuck.” Carey spat as quietly as he could, he hadn't meant to do this at all, what was  _ wrong  _ with him. A soft groan left his lips as he looked around his house. He'd let Braden in, Braden was staying with him, he'd been kind to him, gone on what Carey could only describe as dates with him, how the fuck was he supposed to end this when-

Carey froze.

Oh.

_ Oh no. _

Carey grabbed at his chest as he felt that horrible, familiar, tight compression of his lungs and ribs. No. No he wasn't doing this. Not in front of him. Not with Braden around. Not with anyone around.

Carey fell to the ground before he could even think of suppressing the onslaught of panic that surged through him and he felt tears burn in his eyes. He didn't want this to happen. He couldn't let this happen. No one could see this. Not even Braden. Especially not Braden. 

Kind, sweet, charming, lovely, funny Braden.

He didn't notice  _ when _ Braden had appeared next to him, only knew he felt two large, strong hands on his shoulders and saw the wide eyed, worried face of the younger man through his tear-blurred vision. All he knew was that Braden was holding him, softly saying, no, cooing something as tears streamed down his face.

Kind, sweet Braden who cared about him.

Charming, lovely Braden who loved to see him.

Funny Braden who always happened to burst through Carey’s doors when he needed it.

Kind, sweet, charming, lovely, funny Braden who Carey cared about and wanted to see and wanted to make happy.

Kind, sweet, charming, lovely, funny Braden who he wanted with him, who he wanted to be happy with, who he wanted to go on more bowling dates and restaurant dates and dog park dates with.

_ Oh fuck. _

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Carey came to with a whopping headache, lying in a bed that wasn’t his. His eyes ached as his head pounded, but he was able to look around to see that it was dark outside and that on the bedside table was a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers. Slowly, Carey sat himself up and really got his bearings, realizing he was in the guest room. Before giving it much more thought, Carey knocked back the water and painkillers.

“Carey?” He heard the soft voice come from where the guest ensuite was.

He turned carefully to see Braden, clothed only in his flannel pants with a damp head of hair and a towel thrown across his shoulders. 

He looked beautiful.

“Hey.” Carey groaned, moving a hand to his head as a particularly bad round of pounds came from his post-panic attack, exhausted brain.

“... Are you alright?” Braden asked after a tense silence.

“Head’s killin’ me.” Carey frowned as Braden moved closer and sat on the bed next to him.

“Yeah… th-that…” Braden struggled to find words but shook his head as he ran his hand down Carey’s back, sending chills down the older man’s spine, “What was that?”

“You never had a panic attack before?” Carey huffed as he tried to focus on something that wouldn’t cause his head to throb so badly.

“... Not in a long time to be honest.” Braden sighed, “I forgot what they looked like.”

“Yeah it’s…” Carey shook his head, “How’d I get up here?”

“Oh um,” Braden stammered, “I… carried you?”

“You… carried me… up two flights of stairs.” Carey narrowed his eyes in disbelief.

“Um, yeah.” Braden nodded, “You’re surprisingly light.”

“I’m heavier than you!” Carey stared at Braden, still not believing he’d gotten him up to the bedrooms.

“Lighter than the last time I carried you in any capacity.”

“I’m watching my girlish figure.”

“You don’t really need to do that I mean-”

“Hockey makes you lose weight sometimes and-”

“Like, have you seen your thighs, don’t change those-”

“Have you seen your arms, how is that even fair-”

“God I want to fuck you right now.”

Carey and Braden both froze at the younger man’s words. The dark haired man stared at Braden, his face betraying his confusion while Braden looked down in some horrible mixture of shame and embarrassment.

“I uh… Sorry, that slipped and uh…” Braden mumbled, “That… you just had a panic attack and-”

“I think I should-” Carey mumbled, turning his eyes to the door and moving to stand up.

“Don’t go.” Braden breathed out, his hand darting out and grabbing Carey’s arm.

Carey turned to see Braden’s eyes soft and pleading.

“Bray-”

“I- Please don’t go.” Braden repeated, his voice soft and his hazel eyes drooping in sympathy, “I’m worried about you.”

Braden’s words struck Carey to the core and he found himself staring back in surprise, his heart thumping in his chest, his body shaking slightly again.

“Braden…” Carey whispered out slowly before looking down. He couldn't do this. However before Carey could even think of another constant reply, he felt a soft, ticklish pressure against his cheek, and looked to see Braden pressing a kiss to the soft skin there. The feeling sent a shock through Carey and the older goaltender froze up a little, unsure of what to do.

“Please,” Braden whispered, “for me?”

And who was Carey to deny him?

Carey gave a reluctant affirmation, drawing a warm smile from Braden who took only a moment to slide beneath the covers next to the older man. Carey sighed as he slipped back under the covers as well, trying to settle his heart rate all the while. Before the older of the pair could get comfortable, Braden reached out to him, but froze and Carey watched as the younger goalie scrunched up his eyebrows in confusion.

“Erm… I… I haven't really asked before, but are you… Are you alright with me uh…” Braden stuttered nervously.

“If you're asking if we can cuddle that's fine.” Carey got out after an stuffy silence, his heart pounding even harder in his chest than before.

Braden gave him another one of those stupidly wonderful smiles before wrapping an arm around Carey and pulling him closer until the older of the pair’s head was tucked beneath the younger’s chin. As soon as Carey was pulled in and snug against Braden’s body, a soft, fuzzy, warmth settled in his bones and his body relaxed. The sensation of warmth and security were odd to Carey, so used to the cold loneliness of his own room, he didn't quite know how to handle it. However, the older man managed to settle as he felt Braden’s arms tighten securely around him, surprising himself in the process. A soft hum came from Braden and Carey felt the younger goalie relax above him and listened as Braden’s breaths evened out. Carey smiled softly to himself as he let sleep slowly drag him into its hold, the bone cold chills from so many nights before nowhere to be found.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

Carey woke up warm. Very very warm. He groaned as he tried to roll away from the source of heat, but found himself bracketed and and held tightly by something… some _ one _ . Suddenly, Carey’s eyes snapped open and he inhaled sharply before seeing the messy mop of auburn hair that he knew belonged to Braden. A soft sigh of relief escaped Carey’s lips as he looked at the sleeping form of the younger man, and caught himself tracing the soft lines of Braden’s face. A small smile played across the auburn goalie’s lips and his eyes were closed in what Carey imagined was a peaceful slumber. He looked so happy and Carey felt his heart swell at the sight. 

Carey stayed still for what felt like forever, yet not long at all, until Braden’s eyelashes began to flutter and a soft yawn escaped from him.

“Morning.” Carey smiled, his voice quiet and rough from disuse.

“Morning.” Was the groggy, but happy reply from Braden, the smile on his lips growing as his Hazel eyes opened and settled on Carey’s chocolate brown eyes, “You stayed.”

“Y-yeah.” Carey nodded slightly, “You asked and well…”

Braden’s eyes lit up with happiness and before Carey knew what was happening, the younger goalie’s lips were locked with his. Carey let the younger of the pair guide the kiss, moaning softly as Braden flipped them over so that he was on top of the older Canadian. Braden continued to kiss Carey, his lips gentle and soft as he brought his hands to the darker haired man’s face. Suddenly, Carey felt something hard press against his thigh and he gasped, his eyes opening as Braden slid his tongue into the older man’s mouth. His hands flew to Braden’s shoulders, but he couldn't bring himself to push the younger man away. Carey felt so content and happy… why would he even think of pushing Braden away?

“You have a game tonight.” Braden pulled away with a frown.

“We can still  _ do  _ things.” Carey retorted, rolling his eyes at the younger of the pair.

“I know, I just really like-”

“I know.” Carey chuckled, “How about this, we win tonight? We can come back here and we can do whatever you'd like.”

“Fuck I like the sound of that.” Braden growled into Carey’s neck.

“I know you do.” Carey grinned, not knowing what had gotten into him to offer something like that.

Braden grinned before kissing him again,

“How about we do something for breakfast and we’ll wait ‘till tonight to do anything?”

“That's  _ literally _ what I just suggested what I did.” Carey laughed as he pushed Braden off him playfully, “I have morning skate soon, I need to get ready.”

 

Breakfast was simple, just eggs and toast, but it was nice. Playfully bumping into Braden while getting his things together was strangely comforting, and having someone to do his morning coffee with was fun. Before long Carey was out the door to practice where he felt as if he'd had the best morning skate that he'd had in a very long time. This of course caught PK’s attention and the second the locker room cleared out, he was next to Carey’s stall.

“Whats up Pricey? Don't think I've seen you that happy in a while.” PK laughed.

“Got a good night’s sleep and I guess I'm just really excited for the game tonight.” Carey grinned.

“Hell yeah!” PK cheered happily, “Listen man, I'm still coasting off the high from crushing Boston, this game is gonna be  _ amazing _ !”

“I sure hope so.” Carey grinned.

“Hey uh, you bringing Holtby again tonight?” PK asked quietly.

“... Uh… I figured I would?” Carey frowned.

“You tell him?” 

“... No.” Carey mumbled.

“Fuckin-” PK shook his head, “Carey I swear to god-”

“I know.” Carey shook his head, “I swear I'll tell him Subby, I just-”

“Don't say you can't because we both know you can.” PK sighed, “Listen man, I keep telling you this, but the longer this goes on, the more it's going to hurt him.”

Carey merely frowned and hung his head. PK clapped him on the back and offered him a smile before he packed his own things up and left.

Carey arrived home to Braden walking the dogs out front who immediately started barking in excitement the minute they saw his pickup pull up the road. The sight of Braden making sure Motty and Duke were alright sent a harsh pang through Carey’s heart. When he was parked he hopped out to his dogs excitedly jumping on him. He settled them quickly before looking up to see Braden smiling sheepishly,

“I uh, I like going on walks, figured the dogs would like it too.”

“Thank you.” Carey smiled at him before leading the dogs and Braden inside. 

When Carey had the door closed up and dealt with, he turned to see Braden playing with the dogs again, the same pang shooting sharply through his heart. Braden turned to him after a moment and smiled again, his eyes holding nothing but joy at the sight of Carey and suddenly the darker haired man found himself thinking, this wasn't bad at all.

_____________________________________________________________________________

“ _ Holy fuck _ .” Carey gasped just as Braden pushed him into the wall and brought his lips to the older goalie’s as the door closed behind them. He could feel Braden grin into the kiss as the younger goalie’s hands gripped his shoulders tightly, dominantly. They were both on edge, the game had been close and Carey could feel the adrenaline rushing through his body, even now, so long after the game. 

Only a single goal had been scored that night thanks to an insane play Max had managed to pull out of his ass nearing the end of the third. With that goal and the end of the game, Carey had earned another shutout to add to the books. 

He was definitely not getting off on that shutout high.

Nope.

Not at all.

Fuck it, yes he was.

Carey eagerly pushed back against Braden, enthusiastically kissing the younger man as said younger man moved his hands to grab at Carey’s ass.

“That,” Braden groaned as he pulled away from Carey, “Was  _ so  _ fucking hot.”

“You think so?” Carey breathed out, flashing a seductive smile at the auburn man.

“There’s nothing more arousing than a fucking shutty.” Braden smirked before smashing his lips back to Carey’s.

Carey whimpered into Braden’s mouth before pushing him back.

“I’d much rather do this upstairs.” Carey told Braden, panting slightly from breathlessness.

“I could just fuck you against this wall.” Braden chuckled darkly.

“Or we don’t fuck up my back for my game on Friday.” Carey rolled his eyes.

“... Fine.” Braden huffed playfully.

The trip upstairs was quick, both of them shedding clothes and sharing heated kisses as they stumbled and tripped up the stairs. Carey briefly lost his balance as they reached the top only for Braden to grab his bare shoulders and practically sweep him off his feet as the younger man quickly moved from the stairs. However, Braden hesitated.

“Braden?” Carey asked softly as Braden put him down.

“Um… Which…. Which room?” Braden questioned quietly, his eyes flashing from the guest room door to Carey’s room. Carey’s cold, sterile room.

Carey froze, contemplating his options before realizing all his sex related necessities were in  _ his  _ room.

“M-my room is fine.” Carey stammered, opening the door and feeling a little silly all of a sudden in just his boxers.

Braden grinned and followed Carey into the room, the younger man taking a minute to look around in contemplation.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone’s room this clean.” Braden snickered.

“I don’t like messes.” Carey shook his head in amusement, “You can admire the room later because I think we have more pressing matters to attend to.

“Of course.” Braden gave a low laugh as he moved up into Carey’s space, pressing a kiss to the older man then practically shoved him to the bed.

Within seconds, Braden was on top of him, their lips pressed together again as the younger man’s hands left trails of fire up and down Carey’s sides. For the first time in that room, Carey felt warm, alive,  _ happy _ . He threaded his fingers through Braden’s hair, pulling him in harder as the older of the pair rutted up into the auburn haired man, both moaning at the friction. As Carey opened his mouth for Braden’s tongue to slide inside, he heard a thump from below them.

“Care-” Braden pulled back.

“It’s the dogs.” Carey shrugged as he pulled Braden back to him, wanting that warm, lovely, yet foreign feeling to keep flowing through his body.

Braden smirked into the kiss before shoving his tongue into Carey’s mouth and-

“God fucking  _ dammit Price! _ ”

Carey and Braden both froze and turned to see an absolutely livid PK breathing heavily in the door, his eyes narrow, his face flushed, yet still looking perfect in his game day suit.

“Shit-” Carey grimaced before turning to Braden, seeing his eyes wide, confused, and- oh god,  _ hurt. _

“Carey Price  _ you fucking asshole. _ ” PK spat.

“Carey-” Braden frowned, his face falling with it, “Oh my god-  _ Carey are you dating PK? _ ”

“ _ No!” _ Carey and PK yelled in unison.

“That is decidedly  _ not  _ the issue here.” PK scowled as Braden slowly extricated himself from Carey, standing up and looking slightly ridiculous in only his jeans.

“What are you-” Braden began, turning to Carey for guidance, but before their eyes could meet, the older goalie looked down unable to meet Braden’s eyes, “Carey?”

“Braden…” Carey murmured softly, racking his mind for anything he could say to fix this.

“You haven’t told him.” PK hissed in disgust, forcing Carey out of his head, his eyes wide in fear as he watched the d-man shake his head.

“Tell me what?” Braden whispered as his head turned from PK to Carey, “Carey? C’mon what’s- what’s going on?”

“Braden please, I-” Carey stammered.

“He’s using you.” PK glared at the pair, “Since the first time, he’s been using you.”

“What? No, Carey wouldn’t-” Braden stammered, his face scrunched up in disbelief.

“He’s been lying to you-” PK shook his head.

“PK-” Carey tried to interrupt.

“He’s been using you for his own gain, he doesn’t care about you, he never did.”

Braden stood there in shock, his hazel eyes wide and unfocused.

“Braden-” Carey frowned, voice quiet.

“You… Carey?” Braden turned to him, his eyes holding a deep dread in them.

“Braden listen-” Carey grit his teeth, still trying to figure out how to explain to Braden-

“Carey…” Braden stared and shook his head, “You- you lied to me?”

“Braden listen, it isn’t like that!” Carey grabbed Braden’s shoulders and shook, “It really isn’t-”

“ _You_ _lied to me?_ ” Braden’s voice quickly turned sour and Carey froze, not having expected the tone from the younger goalie, “You fucking _lied_ to me?”

Carey remained frozen, as did PK.

“You haven’t- the  _ entire  _ time?” Braden gasped out, “You lied? You made me think you  _ cared _ ?  _ After everything I’ve fucking told you- _ ”

“Braden please-!” Carey begged, not wanting this to keep going, he’d fucked up, this was his  _ fault _ .  _ All of it _ .

“Especially after  _ everything  _ I’ve told you?” Braden looked so incredibly angry, “I’ve told you so much, spent so much time with you,  _ and you never cared a bit _ ?”

“Braden it isn’t like that!” Carey tried to interrupt.

“Do you not-” Braden’s voice cracked, and Carey saw a tear slip from his eye before the younger goalie’s face drew up into an angry scowl, “You- you-”

“Braden  _ please. _ ” Carey pleaded, his own voice week.

“ **_You’re just like fucking Neuvirth_ ** _. _ ” Braden screamed angrily, tears streaming down his face, and his hair wild and disheveled.

Braden spat something unintelligible as he grabbed whatever he could,  _ and ran. _

“Br- Braden?” Carey’s eyes flew wide as he finally processed what had just happened, “PK-  _ PK what the fuck? _ ”

“I told you I’d-” PK frowned.

“ _ I care about him, PK. _ ” Carey groaned as he tried to get his things together, freezing when he heard the door slam and the dogs beginning to bark.

“You  _ what? _ ” Now it was PK’s turn to be surprised and he stared at Carey as if the goalie had grown an extra arm.

“PK I-” and suddenly, it hit Carey all at once.

This wasn’t just affection towards or just caring for Braden. This wasn’t what Carey had tried to pretend for so long wasn’t real.

This was-

“PK- PK I love him.” Carey whimpered as tears overflowed in his eyes.

“ _ Holy fucking shit _ .”

_________________________________________________________________________________________

The moment the bye week began, Carey was on a plane to Washington, DC. They had lost Friday’s game badly due to one too many blunders on his own part and it was  _ all _ his fault. Ever since PK had interrupted him and Braden, and the… well… not-so-truth-anymore-truth had come out, Carey hadn’t been himself. He’d been alone again. So, so alone. He wouldn’t speak to anyone, he wouldn’t go out except for his dogs… he was so tired and cold and lonely.

Carey had tried everything to get through to Braden, he felt terrible for how everything had gone down. He texted, called, emailed, anything to apologize to Braden, but everything on the younger man’s end had been radio silent. All he had were those stupid text alerts that said ‘read at ‘___’. 

The plane touched down before Carey could think anymore on the past week, and immediately he looked on the little address Braden had shared with him before their bye weeks and prayed he could get there soon. The second he could, Carey grabbed his carry-on and was out the plane then out of the airport. He’d managed to get an uber fairly fast, and then began the quarter of an hour journey to Braden’s home outside the city.

Carey stood in the driveway. Alone. Afraid. Every worst case scenario that could happen flooded his brain all at once, but Carey moved forwards defiantly, he had come too far to turn back now. The minute he reached the door, he knocked as hard as he could. Braden had to be here. It was his off day. No practice, no team, no noth-

The door creaked open and Carey felt like he was going to cry the minute he saw inside.

“... Carey?” Braden mumbled, his eyes baggy and tear stained, his face gaunt, his upper body was bare and covered in-

“Braden.” Carey frowned, struggling not to cry at the sight of him, fearing he’d gone… that he didn’t…

“What are you doing here?” Braden whispered out, his tone so disbelieving in Carey that the older man didn’t know what to do.

“I- I tried to call- to text- I coul-couldn’t-” Carey felt himself choking up, “ _ God, I’m so fucking sorry Braden. _ ”

“Carey I-”

“No.” Carey shook his head, “It’s not ok, i-it isn’t. You trusted me and I- I betrayed you. I did what I promised I’d never d-do to you. I didn’t wan-want to hurt you, n-not after what you’ve already b-been through not af-after-”

“ _ Carey _ .” It took Carey a minute to realize Braden also had ugly tears falling from his face, the pained, heartbroken look on his face sending a jolt of pain straight through the older man’s heart, “Wh-why are you here?”

“Because I  _ do  _ care.” Carey whispered, his voice only just audible, “Because  _ I  _ have to fix this. I  _ want _ to fix this. I- I  _ want this. _ ”

“Carey-”

“Please Braden,” Carey cried softly, “I’m so so sorry.”

Braden hung his head when those words left Carey’s lips, but stepped aside and gestured for the dark haired goalie to come in. Carey slowly followed him inside, his eyes catching just how many… love bites littered Braden’s torso.

“Braden…” Carey frowned, his entire face falling as Braden greeted his eyes with the most heartbreakingly  _ distraught  _ expression he’d ever seen.

“I- I didn’t think-” Braden stammered as he shook his head, sitting down on the couch in the living room, holding his head in his hands.

“I know.” Carey breathed out, shaking his own head, “I know, and it’s my fault-”

“PK said you didn’t-” Braden cut himself off, unable to finish the sentence.

“Braden,” Carey grit his teeth, “a-at first, yeah, but I swear on fucking Vezina’s grave that I never meant to hurt you, I’m so sorry for what I did.”

“At first?” Braden whimpered softly.

“Listen,” Carey hung his head before meeting Braden’s eyes, “I- I’m not a good person, but it isn’t an excuse for what I did. I used you and played with your feelings and that- that wasn’t right. I’m going to keep apologizing because I am so sorry that I did this to you. I do care, I care so much, I was too afraid to admit that to myself before, but I’m saying it now. I care about you Braden, I care for you so much that my heart fucking ached when you left. I haven’t slept in days because of how bad I feel about all of this, how much it fucking hurts. I’m-  _ I’m lonely without you _ . I can’t go back, I can’t isolate myself from the world, from the team, f-from _ you. _ ”

Braden stared at him for a while with those impossibly beautiful hazel eyes, welling up with tears again.

“You don’t have to forgive me, but I figured I owed it to you-” Carey was cut off suddenly as two strong hands held his face and brought him into a soft kiss.

Braden pulled away just a moment after he’d pressed their lips together, more salty tears running down his already tear stained face,

“I should’ve let you explain.”

“No, I should’ve come clean sooner so that this wouldn’t have happened.” Carey shook his head, “This is on me.”

“You flew all the way out here,” Braden murmured suddenly, “just to apologize to me?” 

“Of course I did.” Carey laughed, as more tears slipping from his eyes, “I- it’s almost like I  _ can’t  _ stay away from you.”

Braden just looked at him in that same heartbroken look and looked away.

“Braden,” Carey frowned, “What happened?

“... I called Michal.” Braden rasped out in a hoarse whisper.

“Oh Braden.” Carey breathed out, his heart dropping.

“I just-” Braden choked out, “I wanted to feel like I  _ meant  _ something to someone again and-”

“Oh christ,” Carey shook, “Braden you matter to  _ me _ .”

“But I didn’t know th-that then and I-I-” Braden sobbed, his entire body shaking with the force of them, and Carey pulled him into a hug, not knowing what else to do, “I d-didn’t know what to do!”

“I know,” Carey felt more tears overflow in his eyes as he spoke, “I know and I’m so sorry.”

“I th-thought you hated me and- that it’d just been-”

“No.” Carey stopped him, “Braden, I don’t hate you.”

He was greeted by a blank stare.

“Braden,” Carey cried softly, “Braden  _ I love you. _ ”

Braden cried into Carey’s shoulder for what felt like forever. The younger man cried and tried to talk about what had happened, about how he’d called Neuvirth just to be able to _feel_ again, to _feel_ _human_ again, to feel like he _mattered_ , even if it had to be in a bad way. Carey had done his best to reassure Braden that everything would be alright, that he’d fix it all, that he’d make it better, but Braden had cried harder then.

What felt like hours later, Braden finally shed the last of his tears, his hands still fisted tightly in Carey’s shirt.

“I’ve ruined your shirt.” Braden laughed, trying to lighten the mood as he pulled away, his face still red and tear stained.

“I have more.” Carey smiled sheepishly, “Are you alright?”

“I guess as much as I can be.” Braden shrugged before shuddering, “I think I need a shower.”

“You certainly look like a disheveled mess.” Carey smiled softly, brushing Braden’s hair back and out of the younger man’s eyes as he looked to the staircase.

The two slowly made their way up to Braden’s bedroom, but when Carey opened the door, he frowned. The room was a disaster, furniture, bedding, blankets,  _ everything _ was  _ everywhere.  _

“You aren’t staying in here.” Carey said immediately after just glancing at the horrid mess, “This… This  _ isn’t _ a healthy place right now.”

Braden nodded as he frowned at his bedroom.

“Does your guest room have a nice bathroom?” Carey asked softly, running a hand down Braden’s back in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.

“Same as the master.” Braden informed him softly, looking down.

“Alright, we’ll go there.” Carey smiled softly at him before they made the trek to the guest suite, Carey holding Braden’s hand tightly in his.

Carey drew a piping hot bath for Braden when he figured out how the large tub’s controls worked. As the water filled the large basin, Carey pressed reassuring kisses to the obviously-still-hurt Braden, maintaining physical contact with the younger goalie as much as possible. When the tub was finally full, Carey helped Braden into the basin, the auburn haired man still shaky from his long breakdown, ended just a few minutes before. 

Braden sighed as he lowered himself into the basin, wisps of steam rising from the water. They barely spoke as Carey gently washed Braden’s hair, doing whatever he could to take care of the younger man. Braden hummed contentedly as Carey worked. He leaned into Carey’s hands whenever he could and the older goalie could  _ feel; _ as the auburn goalie decompressed. 

Finally when all washing was said and done, they sat in silence, not knowing what to say. The sun slowly set in the large window facing a forest, bathing the room in brilliant red, orange, and yellow hues, it seemed to make Braden’s skin and hair catch fire. He was undoubtedly the most beautiful man Carey had ever seen. 

Beautiful, kind, sweet, charming, lovely, funny Braden.

“Carey?” Braden whispered out suddenly, throwing Carey out of his thoughts, focusing all his attention on the auburn haired man.

“Yeah?” Carey breathed back, shivering as Braden’s warm hand gently ran over his colder one.

“You said it before…” Braden murmured softly, “I didn’t- couldn’t-”

“Braden?”

“Carey Price,” Braden began, his eyes softening with that beautiful, breathtaking smile stretching across his face, “I love you too.”

Carey Price was not a good person, but that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t do everything in his power to be good for this man, this goaltender, this Braden Holtby, that he’d fallen head over heels for.


End file.
